Diagnosis
by fhl1234
Summary: Harry is diagnosed with cancer during 6th year, turning his world upside down and making him re-think every aspect of his life. He decides to make some changes before it's too late, and creates a "Before I Die" list, on which love steals a space. Will the BWL decide to go through treatment before it's too late? Hp/dm adopted from angelindisguise247 with permission.
1. Chapter 1: Diagnosis

Diagnosis

Written by FHL1234, previously known as Taylor1991

Summary: Harry is diagnosed with cancer during 6th year, turning his world upside down, making him re-think every aspect of his life. He decides to make some changes before it's too late, and complete a "Before I Die" list, on which love steals a space. And will the BWL decide to go through treatment before it's too late? Hp/Dm.

Warnings: OOCness, possible character death, sexual innuendos, sexual scenes both het and slash, descriptions of a serious/possibly terminal disease, and violence.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own the rights to the Potter verse.

A/N: After much consideration, I decided to repost this fanfic and plan upon updating it regularly. Please be patient with me as I work on it. I'd like to say a big thanks to angelindisguise247 for allowing me to adopt the fic.

Diagnosis

Chapter One: Diagnosis

..:..

In recent times, it could be said that an anxious depression seemed to have taken hold of the entire population, both muggle and wizard alike. It spread like a disease in an epidemic fashion, born from the knowledge that he was back and determined to live up to his formidable reputation. It was easily noticeable in the faces of those that passed you in the street as they scurried along, even in their children's eyes as they questioned the unexplainable, yet undeniable, frantic quality to their parent's barks to just hurry up already!

There was only one place left untouched by the mounting hysteria, a place that gave the gift of separation from the world outside to its students. Here, at Hogwarts, the children still laughed, made jokes, hung out with friends, and complained about the last-minute homework stealing their precious time away, knowing they were safe.

One noteworthy student, however, did not particularly feel up to taking advantage of the rare but happy atmosphere that the castle offered, the blanket of magic wrapped around him giving no comfort…

..:..

Poppy Pomfrey stared at the boy sitting rigidly on the bed in front of her, waiting for his reaction as he absorbed the heavy words that had dropped from her lips just moments ago. She couldn't help but be afraid of having to consider the meaning of them herself, but as a dedicated healer, she could not shy away from the time-bomb that had presented itself to her. She had a duty to be strong and provide the support that would undoubtedly be needed from her.

"You can't tell anyone." His voice finally breathed, quickly bringing her out of her daze.

"What?" she asked shocked. She had prepared herself for a lot of possible reactions but this one had failed to cross her mind.

"Please Poppy, I need you to keep this secret for me," her most frequent visitor pleaded with her, and a pleading Harry Potter was almost impossible to deny.

"Why on earth would you want me to do that? Don't you want to get help? Support? Your friends would most certainly want to be informed of something like this! Are you intending to keep them in the dark?" she questioned incredulously. Harry bowed his head so that she couldn't read his facial expressions, but when he looked her in the eye once more with a desperate glint she sighed and conceded defeat, appallingly easily.

"Very well. Dumbledore–"

"Not even Dumbledore." came the unexpected clarification.

"Seriously? But–"

"Please Poppy, just trust me that I need this to be kept confidential!" the woman's mouth abruptly clacked shut.

"Alright. I won't tell anyone Harry." Harry shot her a relieved, grateful smile, even if it did seem like a mere shadow of what it usually was. This only made Pomfrey want to give the boy a much-needed hug, but she held herself back. If she came over all emotional in front of him she may just set him off too.

"May I go?"

"Sorry? Oh! Um, well, yes I suppose you might as well. I won't have any of the pain potions in for a few days yet, but if you pop in and see me at some point, I can give them to you then. There's also the matter of another treatment that I wish to discuss with you when you do."

"Thanks." Harry hopped down off of the bed and started in the direction of the door.

"Perhaps you'd like to stay here? Just tonight?" Poppy asked his back concernedly, only to be refused with the reassurance that he was fine as he walked out the door and left her standing there biting her lip and wondering what exactly this would all mean.

..:..

Brain cancer.

He had a cancer of the brain.

'What did that mean?' Harry wondered dazedly as he meandered back to the Gryffindor common room. Well, he knew the obvious stuff. Like how he could die. But he didn't know how advanced the cancer was. What were his chances? Was he supposed to get that treatment that made all of your hair fall out? What did this mean for the rest of the world?

Madame Pomfrey probably could have answered a lot of his questions, and no doubt was actually supposed to tell him all of this while he was there, but to be fair she looked more shocked and confused than he had felt. He suspected she hadn't had her mind organized enough to think of all that after the impact of the news. Or maybe she simply hadn't had the heart to go into detail about the disease that was slowly killing him.

Either way Harry didn't want anyone to find out. If it turned out that he could be treated and eventually cured, then it wouldn't be necessary to have everyone worrying and depressed over him. If not…well, Harry wanted the time to take it all in and make sure he understood everything he needed to know and what he needed to do before he even thought about telling anyone. Even then the drama would no doubt interfere with everything. People wouldn't be able to prepare for exams properly, and the time they spent with Harry would be tainted with the thought in the back of their minds that this would be some of the last moments they shared with him.

No, Harry would keep this secret.

"Hey Harry, how'd it go?"

Harry looked up across the Gryffindor common room from his position in the portrait hole to a smiling Hermione sitting at the table in front of the fire doing homework with Ron. He walked over, an answering smile on his lips, and sat down on the couch next to Ron.

"Fine. She's getting some migraine potions for me in a few days." Hermione frowned concernedly.

"I thought you said it was just headaches? Did she find anything wrong? I know you think it's just Voldemort, but these ones seemed different to the other times, y'know? Just, the way you act when you have one isn't the same."

"Geez 'Mione, don't worry so much, loads of people are just prone to migraines you know. It doesn't mean something awful is wrong with him and he's gonna drop dead tomorrow! Hannah in Hufflepuff gets them all the time and she's fine." Ron answered jokingly, poking fun at Hermione for her worry over Harry and saving him from having to think of something to say.

"Oh shut up Ron, I know that perfectly fine, I was just asking for heaven's sake, that's more than what you did." Ron just raised his eyebrows in response to Hermione rolling her eyes at him.

"Oh, well excuse me! Someone's moody today aren't they?"

"Well what do you expect when –"

"Guys, I'm just going to head upstairs and go to sleep, okay? My bed's sounding pretty tempting right about now; I was up late last night."

"Sure Harry, goodnight."

"Night Harry."

The sounds of Ron and Hermione's escalating bickering floated on the air as Harry climbed the stairs to his dorm room, realizing how tired he actually felt. He stripped down completely and climbed into bed, leaving his pajama bottoms at the bottom of the bed so that he could put them on inside the confines of the curtains in the morning. He did not particularly want to get up and walk around while giving his dorm mates an eyeful after all. He found it uncomfortable to sleep wearing pajamas, though he sometimes wore a t-shirt to bed when it was cold. The covers were pleasantly cool and welcoming, allowing him to lie in comfort as he let his consciousness drift until sleep took him.

..:..

The next day Harry couldn't help but start to think that his visit to Pomfrey had simply been a horrible dream. Everything was so normal. Nothing had changed at all. He almost expected some kind of major event to happen, something weird maybe, anything really which would reflect the life-altering diagnosis from Pomfrey. But the world kept turning around him anyway. As a result, Harry had succeeded in pushing the issue to the back of his mind to hopefully be forgotten about.

'I mean, really, what's the point of going back to see Pomfrey? She hadn't even explained what treatment she was on about last night anyway.'

However, before he could fully attempt to write off the whole incident as some kind of nightmare in a bid to avoid dealing with it, Madame Pomfrey appeared in the doorway of his last period potions class.

"I apologize Severus but may I borrow Mr. Potter? I need to talk something over with him about his last visit to me. I would have done it at the time but, well, I forgot." Here she blushed in a sheepishly embarrassed way, raising a few eyebrows, the most notable of which belonged to Draco Malfoy.

Since when did Madame Pomfrey do anything other than be efficient, organized, unflustered, and dependable? Draco wondered vaguely what Potter had managed to do to put her in such a tizzy and glanced up at his godfather, who was standing in front of his cauldron, to see if he thought the phenomenon was rather strange as well. Severus glanced down to meet his eyes once, confirming he too had noticed the oddity in Pomfrey's behavior, besides the fact that this was quite possibly the first time he knew of that the healer had come to a class to fetch someone personally.

Both Slytherins then looked over at the boy in question. Harry had gone a sickly pale color and seemed frozen in place, his eyes fixed on his desk in front of him.

"Certainly Poppy. Potter, I do believe that Madame Pomfrey is waiting."

There was a moment when it seemed like Harry would ignore both adults and remain where he sat instead, but after the suspiciously long pause he rose to his feet, trying to concentrate on breathing normally. He maneuvered himself between desks and students till he reached Poppy, though he couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye.

The door closed behind the pair and it was as though a strange spell had been lifted and the rest of the world filtered back into Draco's mind, allowing him to more or less dismiss his curiosity of the incident with the passing thought that perhaps Potter was shagging Pomfrey, allowing a smirk to bloom and die on his lips in quick succession at his own, unvoiced joke.

Severus's eyes, however, lingered on the closed door and Harry's empty seat, a thoughtful frown gracing his harsh features.

..:..

"I'm surprised you didn't come back to see me yet, what with all the questions I left unanswered." Pomfrey made an attempt at a weak smile as she joked about the state she'd been in the night before, but gained no reaction from Harry, who watched the stones of the castle pass under him as he walked.

"Poppy? If I…I mean, when I get really badly ill…can I please stay here? I don't want to be sent back to the Dursley's if it's getting about time for me to...to die." Harry mumbled, uncomfortable asking in the face of the likelihood that what he spoke of would indeed come to pass. Pomfrey's facial expression saddened at the reminder of how her and Harry had become so close.

Every school year began with the now standard check-up and healing of Harry. She had been horrified in his first year at her discovery of the wretched abuse everyone's favourite young man had endured at the hands of those charged with his care and protection. Harry had pleaded confidentiality then as well.

Of course Poppy couldn't give him that, certainly not when he was clearly being hurt so badly on such a regular basis at "home". However, her attempt at informing Dumbledore had been rewarded with nothing more than the claim that, despite the boy's obvious pain, the blood wards would keep him safe and protected from death eaters. He didn't care how much Harry hurt, as long as he remained living.

In the end, she had decided to do the one thing she could do, and the one thing she had once sworn would not happen: she developed a healthy relationship with the boy, beyond the distant and aloof kind of relationship of patient and healer she shared with other students. If no one else would listen to him and care for him then she would, regardless of the fact that it was technically favoring one student above others.

He deserved it.

He needed it.

And Pomfrey could tell Harry revelled in having someone he could share his thoughts and feelings with. She squeezed his shoulder lightly and said, "Of course you can Harry, you're always welcome. I would invite you into my own home if it came down to it." Harry glanced at her out of grateful green eyes and smiled, conveying his thanks and allowing her to scrunch her nose up and grin at him in affection as she raised her hand to his head and messed up his hair.

'At least he can still smile.' thought Poppy. 'As long as he can be happy we'll get through this.'

..:..

When, at last, Harry was secreted away in Poppy's office, she forcefully reeled in her emotions and allowed her professionalism to take over.

"Right then. I will tell you what I know and then once I am finished, you may ask any questions I have not yet answered." Harry nodded, biting his lip and playing with the large holes in the knees of his trousers. Other people had thankfully attributed them to a preference of the scruffy style of fashion on his part.

"As I told you yesterday, I have diagnosed you with brain cancer. Specifically you have a tumor growing in your head, that is what is causing the headaches. Unfortunately it is very advanced, surprisingly so. I believe your magic has somehow been keeping you healthier than you should be at this stage."

"However, magic can't do everything, and despite the fact that you're body is clearly fighting tooth and nail to survive, cancer will eventually win. In fact, if anything, it would have been better if your magic had done nothing, we probably could have caught the disease earlier."

"I'm afraid by this point you'd have no chance in the muggle world. In the wizarding world your chances are, while slightly better, still slim to none, however, with a rigorous combination of muggle medicine and an extremely rare wizarding potion might slightly increase your odds. This treatment plan like in the muggle world will be a fine balancing act that could naturally kill you before the cancer does. It's going to be a hard road ahead for you, if you choose this. When you've chosen the course of action or enaction that you wish to persue, let me know." Here Pomfrey gripped the cushions of her seat in a tight grip, reminding herself she had to do this.

"If you decide not to seek a treatment that I've heard is more intensive than muggle chemo therapy then I'm afraid that the best we can really do is treat the symptoms as they come to make you as comfortable and active as possible for as long as possible. As time goes on you're likely to experience a number of symptoms, as I just mentioned, some of which may include migraines, loss of the senses such as taste, sight or smell, fainting spells, memory loss –"

"How long?" Harry cut her off. There was a pause.

"Harry, I know you feel like you're supposed to be involved in the defeat of Voldemort, but don't feel like you have a time-limit or anything in which you have to kill him. Dumbledore and The Order can handle it. In reality you're still just a teenager, you should have no place in such a war –"

"Poppy. How long before I die?"

Pomfrey sighed.

"I would say a year give or take a while unless you decide to seek treatment."

"And if I am willing to give this a shot, then how much longer will I gain," inquired Harry.

"Provided that we contact the foremost wizarding oncologist and you're willing to undergo muggle tests to determine where the tumor is growing on your brain, at worst two to three years and I'd say that at the very best, your magic and the drugs could put the cancer into remission. This of course would mean that you'd have to come up with an alias to disguise yourself whilst you're in muggle London for any necessary tests and treatment," said Poppy calmly. "I know that you asked for this to be kept confidential, but I would have to inform both the healer and the person brewing the potions regimen of your true identity, because one of the potions requires both your magical signature and a sample of your blood each time it is administered."

Harry gulped nervously.

"Merlin spare me, the brewer in question doesn't happen to be a certain potions master now does it, and what do you mean, 'one of the potions'? How many vial concoctions are you planning on me signing up to willingly poison myself with daily?"

"That would entirely be up to you my dear," Poppy answered. "But sometimes it's best to put aside old grudges in order to have the best outcome. Professor Snape is one of the finest potions masters I know and your best chance at making a meaningful recovery."

Harry really didn't know how to feel about this. It was all too much too soon. Undergoing treatment would weaken him considerably, and if Lord Voldemort were to find out about his illness, he'd be a goner for sure!

"Can I have some time to think it all over?"

"Sure lad. Though I must caution you not to wait too long. And once you make the final decision, I'll contact the healer I mentioned promptly, for he knows more about this than I do, that's why I don't feel comfortable explaining the particulars of your treatment to you at this time. I don't want to give you the wrong information."

Now it might be all worth it if the healer is a hunk with muscular biceps and warm hands: not to mention washboard abs.

Harry was broken out of his revelry by Poppy's quiet chuckling. "Are we perhaps getting a little turned on by the thought of your healer being a fine piece of arse?" Many a Hogwarts student would have looked at Poppy askance at her choice in words, but Poppy had seen Harry through what had formally (until the other day) been his worst moments, and she knew that a dose of humor would help his mood immensely…even if only momentarily.

"Thank you for your candor Poppy," stated Harry. "But I'm just not ready for you to breach that confidentiality clause yet."

"I understand dear," said Poppy kindly. "When you're ready, feel free to come and see me, whatever you decide, my office is always open. And just remember dear, cancer is not contagious."

They both sat in silence for a long time. Until a brilliant plan popped into Madame Pomfrey's mind. There was in fact something that she could do to both improve her favorite patient's vision for as long as possible and his appearance simultaneously.

"Harry," asked Poppy hesitantly, not sure if he'd had time to come to terms with what little she had told him about his condition and his options thus far.

"Yes ma'am?"

"I've noticed of late that your prescription seems to be rather outdated. Would you like me to try to give your vision a touch up? I must tell you though, if the tumor encroaches either the octave nerve or the occipital lobe of the brain, there's nothing that can be done and these glasses won't work. However, in the meantime, I can make you look like the hottest person to ever walk these walls, if you'd like, I can even change the shape and look of your glasses if you so choose." That did it. Poppy's talk of the tumor doing so much damage that glasses would cease to work for him got through to Harry the seriousness of his predicament, as nothing previously had done.

"W-would a test be able to reveal that information? Is there any way to determine if the tumor has spread to the optic nerve or is growing on or near the o-occipital…whatever?"

"As a matter of fact, there is, but such matters can't be determined by any magical body scan that I'm aware of. I'm afraid that if you wanted to find that out, you'd have to allow me to contact that healer I spoke of to you earlier."

As much as Harry needed some answers, he wasn't ready for the possibility of finding out that he would no longer be able to fly, because the tumor might cause him to suffer vision loss, so he answered in the negative. "I'm just not ready yet…I know that there'll come a time that I will need to take the initiative and grow the balls to go to a muggle cancer research hospital, but I beg of you a few weeks so that I can get my thoughts in order," stated Harry firmly. "I don't know how much you're aware of how muggles practice medicine, or treat illnesses, in all fairness, I don't know much either. However, I do know that as soon as they see my brain scans, if the tumor is really as advanced as you fear, they're going to want a definite answer as to whether I want to start treatment or not."

"Yes, Mr. Potter. That's probably exactly how things would pan out, but you have to understand that the longer you delay treatment, the harder you'll have to fight. And I'm afraid that that would mean the more chemicals we'd have to pump into your body." Harry was willing to risk it, the question was, was Poppy? She had stuck with him through everything, and even went to bat for him when the Headmaster refused to do something about his so-called relative's mistreatment of him. It hadn't done a lick of good, but it was the thought that counted, right?

"Okay," said Poppy with a note of finality in her tone. "Take off your glasses and stand over here." Poppy gestured to a spot in the center of the room where she had drawn an x with her wand. Once Harry was in position, Poppy conjured a standard eye chart and stuck it to the wall with a flick of the wand. "Place your left hand over your right eye please."

Harry felt rather silly doing this, as at primary school, the school nurse had handed him a patch to hold instead. He mused that it looked a far sight less ridiculous than he did now. Harry decided to take a quick rest while Poppy moved the chart up a bit further on the infirmary wall.

"Stand again, please, cover your left eye this time and read the top line for me." Madame Pomfrey said and with a tired sigh he stood and did what his healer had asked of him. Why did the matron have to know so much about medical things that were unrelated to cancer?

Harry stood up and covered his left eye, taking a step back when Poppy motioned for him to stand a bit further away. He squinted his right eye, trying to focus on the awfully blurry shape. It wasn't too difficult to make out that it was an 'E', but it amazed him just how blurry that 'E' was.

"It's an 'E'." he said, trying to not sound as if it were a question. "An 'O' and an 'A' –I think."

Poppy nodded, timing just how long it took Harry to answer her and judging the boy's strained stance, his head slightly turned to the left while she at the same time cast a spell at the boy's eyes, having noticed Harry squinting his eye, and she frowned.

"The third line, then." she said, trying to sound as emotionless as possible while she didn't really like that the boy was barely sure concerning the first line. His left eye was already bad, but he at least had had some conviction in what he thought he saw for the first two lines, but now his vision was appalling. Blast muggle cancer! Harry would not take the news well, so she wasn't going to tell him that the charm that would enable the lenses to change prescriptions as his eyes worsened was not in fact the norm. It would only upset him further.

The rest of the impromptu eye exam went by in the same fashion. Until Poppy tore the chart off the wall with gusto. She had to persuade the boy to change his glasses style and make now that his vision was so poor, his old frames just wouldn't suffice. Harry needed a wider lens on his right eye especially to make up for the newly developed deficit of his peripheral vision. "Alright then Harry, you may take a seat. I need to ask you, are you willing to change your old glasses for some new ones?"

"What do you mean exactly?"

"Your eye exam has shown me that your prescription has never been right for you. So I wonder how a muggle Optometrist failed to notice this? Any Occulist would have never made such an obtuse error."

Harry was slightly irritated that she apparently thought that his trusty old frames weren't good looking enough for her.

"Well, when I was in the second grade, my teacher noticed that I was having some trouble making out what she wrote on the chalk board. A note was sent to the Dursleys informing them that I needed glasses. This just gave Petunia another reason to find me defective. Since I knew that they would never take me to a real eye doctor, I went to see the school nurse to make sure that I needed glasses and she agreed with my teacher."

"I don't want to hear you refer to yourself as that ever again. Do you understand me," demanded Poppy, hands on hips furious at the attempted brainwashing on the boy concerning his magic and his eye sight. Having problems seeing was a common complaint amongst school children…how dare his aunt try and tell him otherwise! It seemed everytime she spoke of his so-called relatives with Harry, she learned more about just how abnoxious and despicable they were.

"So instead of taking me to a GP she took me to a charity bin and had me pick out some spectacles." Poppy was astounded. How did Harry get through his day-to-day tasks? He played Quidditch for years without being able to properly see whose team was who's apparently. How did she fail to notice until now?

"Um Harry," asked Poppy tentatively. "How did you manage to catch the Snitch with such accuracy? The eye exam that I gave you would indicate that such a feat would be impossible with your eye sight."

"I learned how to focus entirely on one thing, the Snitch. Its golden color helped me distinguish it from the other balls rather well if I may say so myself," said Harry cheekily.

"Back to my previous question Mr. Potter. Don't think that your little distraction gambit worked on me for an instant. I asked about your willingness to change the shape of your frames for a reason."

"And what exactly is that?"

Deciding to give the overstressed boy a break Poppy said, "You're right eyes peripheral vision is horrid and I don't want you to walk around looking like a fool, with one lenses' wider than the other."

Harry sighed exasperatedly.

He liked his glasses just the way they were thankyouverymuch.

"If you must, but why is it necessary? The Dursleys always said I was a freak, and I have no intentions of making myself look like one."

Harry handed the matron his glasses against his better judgment. Within moments, Poppy had cast the necessary charms that would allow him to see as well for as long as possible.

Poppy conjured a mirror so that Harry could try on the different glasses that would fit his needs best, but just to add some humor into the mix, Poppy's first choice was an exact replica of Albus Dumbledore's half mooned spectacles. With a smile, Poppy handed him the frames. "Here, try these on."

Harry was just ready to get this whole thing over with all-bloody ready, so he complied without looking at the ghastly looking glasses that he now held.

Poppy couldn't help herself upon seeing Harry's striking new look and she burst into uncontrollable laughter. "I t-think t-that t-those a-are t-the o-ones," stammered Poppy.

"Maybe for meddling old coots, but the many-Headmaster look doesn't appeal to my delicate sensibilities. Or I dare say yours."

"Give them to me," said Poppy having now got her laughter under wraps again. Harry did as she bid and waited patiently for the next absurdly out-of-fashion pair that she had in store for him. He allowed the farce, because he could tell that the weight of having informed her favorite patient that he could and probably would more than likely be dead before he reached the age of seventeen hadn't been a walk in the park for her either. It had been difficult enough just listening to the words; he didn't want to imagine how hard it would be to be given the task of telling someone that they did have a deadly form of cancer and that it could prove terminal.

Harry's understanding for Poppy's need to use him as her personal manikin were quickly coming to an end as he next found himself sporting triangular framed glasses next. And to top it all, they were black framed. "If you're trying to assist me in catching some pretty little bird with these, don't bother…it won't do you any good as I prefer a well-muscled bloke any day over some damsel in distress." But then again Poppy already knew this bit of information because she had been the one to whom Harry had come to asking for advice about his sexuality in the first place.

"Witch Weekly's got it all wrong, I'll remain an available batchelor in their eyes until the day I find a sexy guy to join with…and man what an uproar it'll cause when they find out that their savior is unashamedly a queer."

"Is that so? So you're not one of those closet gays who will do anything to prevent their friends and families from finding out that they find the opposite sex unappealing? Good for you. There aren't many people in the wizarding world who have the guts that you do to freely admit that they'll never produce an heir."

Harry smirked.

"Why should I be a shamed of who I am? In the muggle world, attitudes towards such issues aren't what I'd call accepting towards us, though they're more tolerant of the fact that we can see who we bloody well please than the wizarding world is."

"Ahem," coughed Poppy. "Try these on. I really do believe that these will do the trick." Harry had enough sense to actually look at the frames this time as she proffered them to him. Ah these would do nicely. In fact, when he tried them on, Harry Potter smirked pleased with his new look. The glasses were rectangular in shape, were black rimmed, and both corners had tiny Snitches adorning them which were silver colored. He looked rather smashing if he may say so himself.

"Thank you Poppy," said Harry getting up and hugging er fiercely in gratitude. "You know, if anyone had asked me before now if I had a problem with my glasses I'd tell them to shove off cause I'm perfectly happy with my appearance. But now that I've tried these on, I wouldn't change them for anything in the world!"

"You're welcome."

Harry stood up and strode to the door with a spring in his step calling over his shoulder, "I'll see you later. Thanks again."

..:..

Harry made his way to the Gryffindor common room, so lost in thought was he that he hardly noticed as he walked right through Nearly Headless Nick. The discomfiture that was associated with walking through a ghost didn't even faze him. If he hadn't walked this path so much then he would more than likely have ended up hopelessly lost, because his only saving grace was that his feet kept up a drumming rhythm that eventually led him to the Fat Lady. He was walking on autopilot.

Upon clambering through the portrait hole, Harry trudged up to the sixth year dorm. He didn't stop for anything, even for Hermione who tried but failed spectacularly at gaining her friend's wondering attention. She had no idea that at this very moment, her best friend who had been there through thick and thin with her was facing the biggest and hardest decision of his short life, one that would dictate whether he made it to his Hogwarts graduation or not.

Ron followed hot on his friend's heels. Even Godric Gryffindor wouldn't have ever predicted that Harry would decide to get a sleek new pair of glasses, and Ron was going to be the first to get the details.

..:..

A/N: Hope you liked the alterations I made to the fic that I adopted. I included the scene with Harry getting new glasses because the chapter needed a dash of humor to accompany the heavy overtones. Also, Draco's bound to notice his new glasses and by proxy him. Please let me know if there are any formatting problems, as I'm uploading the fic to the site using a screen reader and I more than likely will not notice the problem otherwise. Just to warn you from the get-go, this is going to be a slash story, don't like, don't read. Please shoot me a review. BTW This version of the story can also at the present time be found on ao3, but I'll be altering some scenes if you want to read it here.


	2. Chapter 2: Growth and Development

Diagnosis

For story warnings, see chapter one.

Disclaimer: I can only dream of becoming half the writer JKR has become.

Chapter 2: Growth and Development

..:..

Harry sat down at the dinner table and eyed the evening's choice of meals. This was a bad idea really, because what he found was the last thing he wanted to have to deal with right now. He really couldn't be bothered with it. Really, REALLY couldn't be bothered with it.

"Urgh!" he exclaimed in disgust and let his head fall down onto his folded arms on the table; Ginny giggled.

"Alright there Harry?"

"Nnnngh!" was Harry's reply, completely mangled and impossible to make out because of the fact that his nose was squished against the back of his hand. However, it did get the general point across and it put an amused smile on Hermione's face.

Harry lifted his head up so that he could be heard.

"I SO can NOT be bothered trying to guess what the hell the ingredients are for every freaking dish here. Whose idea was it to change the menu and experiment with the meal rotation anyway? I may have to kill them."

"Don't be so dramatic Harry, it's not that bad." said Hermione, still smiling.

"Says you. You can just pick up whatever you want and stuff your face. You don't have to analyse it so much that the last thing you want to do is eat it by the time you're done with it."

"I bet I can beat you this time, I only lost by one point last time remember? It was that cappuccino. Who uses eggs to make the foamy bit anyway? Any normal person uses just milk." Neville joined in.

"Sorry Neville, I'm not really in the mood. And besides, I still wouldn't have been able to drink a cappuccino anyway, even if it didn't have the eggs in it, milk has lactose remember?" Harry leaned his head in his hand—fully prepared to just go without eating—and sighed.

The smiles from his friends faded at Harry's lack of enthusiasm for their attempt at making a bit of a game from the necessary task of figuring out which meal had what ingredients in it.

"It's alright Harry, I spoke to Dobby in the kitchens earlier and he mentioned that they were trying out different things tonight. He said you could eat the spaghetti bolognaise when I mentioned your allergies."

"Thanks Ron, you're officially my favorite person right now." Harry spooned half a plate-full of food for himself and gave a tired kind of sigh. Once he had begun eating and talking to Neville, Ron and Hermione took turns at adding more bits and pieces of spaghetti bolognaise to Harry's plate when they thought he wouldn't notice throughout the meal, as was the routine.

Noticing an oddity at the staff table, Harry asked, "'Mione, have you noticed that the Headmaster has been unusually absent at mealtimes lately? It isn't at all like him."

Hermione shook her head in exasperation at her dear friend's mile wide curiosity streak. This wasn't the first time this term that he'd brought this to their attention. "He's both the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the head of the Wizingamot, he's bound to miss a meal or two, and with his ability to do wandless magic, and he can summon food from the kitchens any time he pleases. I don't mind to seem rude, but he doesn't answer to you."

Harry scowled.

This wasn't the first time his friends had brushed off his all-too real (in his opinion) concern.

"Yes but…these aren't ordinary circumstances. We're in a time of war."

"I don't disagree with you Harry, but if something is going on to cause him to be away from the school for long stretches of time, don't you think that a sensible man like him would take every necessary precaution to ensure our safety?"

"Yes. Of course, you're right, but after he left me in the dark last year…after what happened to S-sirius, I have every right to wonder if he's hiding stuff from me you know. He treated me like a bloody five-year-old. I'm not a child and haven't been for quite some time; I don't take kindly to being treated like one."

"I see your point, if it concerns you so, then just ask him," interjected Hermione kindly. "He's so use to having to keep information close to the vest that I don't honestly think that it was his intention to withhold whatever he has from you. I'm sorry if you feel left out and like he treated you like a mushroom by keeping you in the dark, but just talk to him about it." She knew that the Headmaster had told Harry something of great importance after the events at the Ministry, but hadn't pressed him for details yet. Perhaps that was the underlying cause of his curiosity and frustration where Dumbledore was concerned. Hermione decided that it was high time to change the conversation. What happened in June was a taboo subject around Harry these days.

For the first fifteen minutes or so of the meal Harry made an effort to include himself and act like he would normally, but he slowly began to fade from the conversation until he eventually was no longer even listening to his friends as they joked around and teased each other. They left him to his silence, knowing that if he didn't feel like talking there was no point in forcing him.

He held his glass of water in one hand and caught a droplet on the outside of the container with a fingertip, dragging it around the surface.

His friends thought he didn't notice when they made an effort to get him to eat more, but he did. He wasn't sure how long they had been doing it, but when he'd first realized it he had felt his heart warming at the thought that his friends would care about him enough to do such a thing.

He was really lucky to have met them that day in first year.

He couldn't help but feel sad that he would probably never get to see them as adults. That he might not get to see the kind of people they would become, or whether they changed for the better or worse. Who they would marry; what their kids would be like. He would miss it all.

But in a lot of ways he had already witnessed their growth and maturation. They had already begun developing into their more adult personalities, and Harry was positive they would all become amazing people.

He remembered Hermione as an eleven year old and smiled as he watched the girl in front of him speak happily and animatedly to Ginny, clearly content and comfortable. It was such a contrast to the small girl hiding under a bush of hair, utterly terrified she wasn't going to fit in. She had been so determined to prove her worth, by making it clear that she was intelligent and motivated to learn, adapt and fit in. Harry thought it was all just because she was unsure of herself in a new world where people seemed to dislike her on principle. She wanted so much to get herself a good reputation, and to be well liked among her teachers at this new school of hers. It was because of this that she had become almost obsessive about the rules. Harry didn't think he had ever seen anyone as highly-strung as Hermione.

But that was all different now. She was nowhere near as uptight and stressed out anymore. Instead she had mellowed out a lot and seemed far more relaxed about life in general. She understood that sometimes there are things more important than following rules. Her personality was much more friendly, open and welcoming. And she was much more understanding too, now that she could see things from a perspective beyond whatever would break the least rules. There was also, of course, the fact that she smiled much more than when Harry had first met her, and she had a spontaneous streak a mile wide, which Harry liked to think he and Ron had cultivated in her.

Well, maybe not that spontaneous, but whenever Harry and Ron decided to do something completely random and out of the blue she was always the first to come along and join in. She was a complete contrast to how she had started out at Hogwarts really.

Harry smiled and gave a quiet chuckle as the memories of his best friend flashed briefly in his mind's eye. He loved her to bits really. Who knew where he would be without her?

Giving in to the urge, Harry wrapped his arm loosely around Hermione's shoulders and brought her in to his side to give her the only sort of sideways hug that the table would allow. She turned her head and gave him a surprised look, but when he just smiled at her the expression quickly changed to one of happiness as she smiled back widely before turning back to her conversation without mentioning it. She did, however, exchange a pleased look with Ron as she tried to subdue her excitement at Harry's gesture of affection. Ron's expression answered her with hope.

Harry, however, saw nothing of this because he had just noticed Michael Corner get out of his seat, and was now watching as he made a move as if to approach their group. They all knew he and Ginny weren't on the best of terms and he had been spreading rumors about her and calling her names in an extremely childish retaliation to her rejection. It was as though he just couldn't accept she didn't like him like that anymore. At all.

Ginny was in the middle of talking to Lavender and Parvati about their latest encounters with the boys they liked, so they didn't notice the pending confrontation. Before the boy could do much, however, Ron grabbed a breadstick from the table and broke it cleanly in two, keeping eye contact with him unwaveringly. He then set about pointedly breaking it into tiny little pieces, which he then placed on his empty plate and crushed under his own glass of pumpkin juice enthusiastically. When he was finished, he simply stared at Michael, glanced back at the fine powder he had reduced the breadstick to, and spat in it for good measure. Michael simply turned around and sat back down, giving Ron a nervous look.

"Ew, Ron, what the hell did you do that for?" Hermione looked quite disgusted at Ron's glob of spit sitting in his plate. He just grinned at her.

"Sorry, thought a fly flew into my mouth. Don't you hate it when that happens?" Hermione just shook her head at him and returned to her conversation once more. Ron threw the Ravenclaw table one more glare for luck and resumed his own place in the conversation.

..:..

That night, when Harry and Ron were getting ready for bed, Harry overheard Dean and Seamus talking about Michael Corner on the stairs to the common room, reminding him of the incident in the hall.

"I saw that thing you did to Michael at dinner by the way," he commented, smiling in remembrance, prompting an answering grin to creep over Ron's face, who gave a snort of laughter.

"I was just showing the creep what'll happen if he keeps thinking he can mess with my sister. He's got guts I'll admit, being so obvious about coming to bother Ginny right in front of me, but that just gives me something to tear out of him and use as rope to hang him by later." Ron's grin turned wicked.

"You're lucky the girls didn't notice." Harry pointed out, pulling his t-shirt over his head and messing his hair up even further.

"I know. I don't see why they'd get all annoyed at me for doing it though. I mean, seriously, they can't expect me to sit by and watch someone act like a complete git towards them. What kind of brother or friend would I be then? I'll tell you: a crappy one."

"Nah, I think they'd appreciate it on some level. It's probably more a case of wounded pride that they didn't fend off the bad guy for themselves if you know what I mean. They're hardly going to be annoyed at you for wanting to look out for them."

Harry sat down on his bed.

"Well, what can I say, I just want to make sure people treat them right. Our girls are special." Harry agreed with Ron silently, knowing that the friendship their group of friends shared was unparalleled by anyone else they knew. And the whole school knew it too.

Ron finished getting changed into his pajamas and stood looking at Harry for a second before he finally poked him in the stomach.

"How come you're so fit? It's not fair! I play Quidditch all the time at home and I don't have abs like that. What the bleeding hell makes you so special? And your new glasses really add to your fit appearance. If you were into females, then you'd be attracting chicks like crazy mate."

Harry laughed at his grumbling comment and rubbed the spot where he had poked his stomach.

"Why Ron, are you jealous? Honestly though, I'm obviously going to have better muscles than you if I spend pretty much every second of my holidays doing something active while you spend your time lazing around and trying to avoid homework when you aren't playing Quidditch, which, let's face it, isn't exactly much of a work-out, really." Harry teased his friend.

"Lazing? I'll give you lazing!" Ron shook his fist at Harry in mock anger. "And I doubt you do that much more compared to me, it's not like I don't do anything while I'm at home y'know! It's hard work living in a big family like ours!"

"Yeah, well, the Dursleys made me get a job over the past few summers doing a lot of heavy lifting and stuff. I lost that job though so this summer past I got another one in a fitness suite. 'Nuff said really." Harry shrugged.

Ron looked at Harry askance as he climbed under his covers and made himself comfy.

"They made you get a job? Why?"

Harry climbed into his own bed and took off his bottoms under the covers, kicking them to the bottom of the bed.

"They said I needed to earn my keep so to speak. I give them all my wages and they…look after me…kind of."

Ron looked at him with a confused expression for a moment.

"Is that one of those weird Muggle tradition things I won't understand?"

"…Yeah. Sure."

There was silence for a few moments while they got comfy enough to fall asleep, with Ron giving one more comment before preparing to dive into sleep (it could only possibly be described as diving, as opposed to drifting off to sleep, due to the phenomenal speed Ron always managed this with).

"I don't know why you always sleep naked Harry, but I'm damn glad you don't sleepwalk."

Harry just laughed.

Once Ron had turned away from facing Harry on his bed, Harry lifted his covers up and looked down at his stomach, trying to figure out how serious Ron was being. He trailed his fingers over his abs. He supposed he was really quite toned compared to most of the other boys. A satisfied smile crossed Harry's face at the compliment Ron had paid him, proud that he apparently had a great body. He'd never really thought about trying to stay toned and looking good, it was just chance that had his circumstances resulted in him leading a very active lifestyle. Despite most peoples' assumptions about him based on his clothes and his hair, Harry did care about how he looked.

Secretly he had often been upset about the clothes he had been made to wear when he was younger, and in the present day he commonly felt embarrassed to go out in public dressed like he did. He had learned not to let it show however, because if he did then people picked up on it, which just brought more attention onto his atrocious wardrobe for people to make fun of. So he was thrilled that Ron had said he was fit. It was something good to balance the bad in his appearance.

Keeping in mind that he wasn't working at Hogwarts like he was at "home", Harry made a mental note to make an effort to try and maximize this previously unnoticed asset of his.

But how would any treatment that he chose affect his previously unappreciated (by him anyways) assets? Would the terrifying treatment plan, that he had no intent on worrying about until which time he felt ready, affect his messy hair? Would the magical treatment make it fall out like that Muggle stuff? Would he become as skinny as a rail? He sure hoped not because then who would find him attractive if he looked sick? He knew that his thoughts were bordering upon extreme vanity, the last thing he wanted to do is sound like Malfoy reincarnate, and he couldn't allow himself to appear thus even in the contours of his own mind. So he pushed those unbidden thoughts out of his mind. He still had time to weigh his options.

It was occurring to him again how important Ron was to him, much like it had at dinnertime with Hermione, and he was lost once more in memories of their first couple of years here together.

He had changed almost as much as Hermione had. He used to be so temperamental, getting under his skin was a piece of cake and it didn't take much to make him fly off the handle. Harry remembered he had been just as desperate as Hermione in first year, except instead of worrying about fitting in and doing well; he was more concerned about proving himself worthy in the wake of his brothers. He wanted nothing more than to be special, to be something more than what he was, something bigger, something better. His hot-headedness made it difficult for him to see things from other people's point of view as well.

Now, however, he was extremely loyal and protective to those he loved, which was easy to see in the small gestures he made like protecting the girls on the sly.

It didn't matter what Harry did or who he was, he knew it wouldn't matter because Ron had grown out of throwing temper tantrums. Now he accepted it and tried his hardest to understand it. And he was so much happier now because he was happy with whom he was and he didn't feel like he had to be his brothers better anymore. He was okay with just being Ron.

Harry felt a surge of affection for his best friends.

"Hey Ron? You asleep yet?"

"No. What's up?"

"I was just thinking…do you still wish you could be like your brothers?" Ron exhaled explosively.

"Whoo, loaded question Harry. Why did you ask that?" Ron turned back over to face Harry with his duvet bunched up under his chin and held in place with his hand under the covers.

"Dunno. I was just thinking. You and Hermione have changed a lot over the years." Harry smiled.

"So have you." Ron's smile had a rather sad quality to it, but Harry's mind repressed it, unwilling to deal with the possible meanings behind it.

"Well?"

"It's a long story."

"Aw, come on! I'm not really tired anyway, you can take all night to explain if you want."

"Urgh, alright. Since you insist." Ron got out from under the covers and climbed onto the bottom of Harry's bed, pulling the curtains around them. Once he was seated comfortably and Harry had sat up too, he began.

"Okay. Well, I guess it all started with Hermione. Well, I guess you were the trigger actually, but Hermione was the driving force. Do you remember that time before the first task in fourth year, when Hermione did really quite bad on one of her tests and was all depressed about it?" Harry nodded.

"Well, when I found out I rubbed her face in it and she got upset about it, especially when she got that letter from her parents saying they expected more from her. So, as you can imagine she wasn't very happy with me and I was really annoyed because I couldn't understand what her problem was, it was just a stupid test in my eyes. I didn't see why she couldn't just be happy, she did perfect in every other test anyway!"

"But then I saw her talking to you about it, crying on your shoulder, you know what I mean, and I got so jealous you wouldn't believe. I couldn't see past the fact that everyone seemed to love you so much, like everyone seemed to love my brothers, including Hermione. It was like I was the annoying third wheel or something."

"I confronted Hermione about it eventually. I accused her of fancying you and the both of you going behind my back and everything. And she got really mad, seriously, she went freaking mental! She was yelling about how I would never understand because I was such a selfish jerk and she said that you and her were so close to each other, instead of me, because you both knew each other inside-out and you had taken the time to get to know each other at every level of friendship. She said I was so wrapped in 'me, me, me' that I never noticed anything about the two of you. This was a very long explosion by the way, if you couldn't already tell." Ron grinned in his laugh-provoking way, which worked, as it usually did, to get an amused smile out of Harry.

"Anyway, yeah, so, she went on saying that if I had known anything about you then I would have known, or at the very least trusted, that you were telling the truth about the Goblet of Fire, instead of showing myself to be the true insensitive prick I was and deserting you at the first opportunity. I was furious with her, and completely in denial. I stopped talking to her for quite a while, I didn't want to believe what she said and stood my ground on the whole issue until you faced that Hungarian Horn Tail during the first task. I hate to admit it but when I saw you coming out of the medical tent that pretty much clenched it for me; I guess it really slammed home just what an insensitive prick I was being. Charlie works with dragons and I've heard plenty a story where he and the other handlers have gotten burned and his mate Rick nearly got roasted alive one day when he got too close to a nesting mother. But back to Hermione…"

"However, she had got me thinking at last. Eventually I couldn't take it anymore and I dug out my families' old pensieve and put the memory of the night your name came out of the goblet into it so I could confirm to myself that I was right. Except I was so completely wrong." Ron seemed to cringe at the memory of himself while Harry hung on every word, fascinated with this part of Ron and Hermione's lives he had never known about until now.

"At the time I had been so blinded by jealousy I felt like I'd been stabbed in the back or something as soon as I heard your name. I never even bothered to stop and think. I didn't look at you or ask you or anything. And once I looked back at the whole incident in the pensieve I finally did look at you and I could see that you were completely shocked. You didn't even move at first. When I approached you outside the medical tent that day." Ron laughed.

"You should have seen yourself Harry, you went green! I seriously thought you were going to keel over!" Harry gave Ron a playful punch on the arm for teasing him, and Ron rubbed it, pretending to look wounded at his cruelty before becoming serious once more and sighing.

"I felt absolutely horrible after that. I spent a lot of time thinking about it and I sort of realized that I had spent so much time feeling wronged by everyone for not liking me as much as they liked everyone else that I had never bothered to actually do anything worth being liked for. I had no idea what to do with myself. So I went and talked to Hermione. Well, I apologized first actually, and asked her to help me figure out how to fix things. She told me I wasn't the one I needed to apologize to, but she also told me that I just needed to stop worrying so much about myself and my perceived problems and make an effort to actually put myself in other peoples' shoes. I think she said I needed to learn how to feel empathy or something. Then I would understand them and I would actually be giving something back to the relationship instead of just taking all the time. I remember I was dead chuffed actually, she told me I was really funny and the first thing I could do to change things was make up with you and start cheering you up, cos she was useless at it."

"So I went to the first task that day and made up with you as you know and we went from there, but I still felt like I wasn't really any different, you and Hermione were still closer. So I made a point of keeping my eyes open for a chance to prove that I did really care about my friends and family, and finally there was a time where Hermione was really upset because she was really worried about you." Ron deliberately skimmed over this part, though Harry didn't notice his pointed lack of details.

"I noticed she was feeling down and I went and talked to her about it, and I actually listened to her for once, and it was amazing! I'd never felt that…I dunno…needed or important to someone I guess. I think Hermione was surprised about me even noticing let alone caring enough to take the time to talk to her about it and reassure her. But I did and I think that's more or less around the time where I started getting more involved in the lives of the people I considered close to me, and less preoccupied with who my brothers were close with. What need did I have for what they had when I had my own life to live and be happy with?"

"That's basically the story. I'm glad Hermione took the time to try and help me become a better person though. Other people wouldn't have believed in me or had the patience she did. There, happy now?"

"Yeah. I'm just…I can't believe I never noticed any of that happening!"

"Oh, you did. Hermione and I just played it off as a tiny little thing like having a bad day or something whenever you picked up on the tension or me feeling out of sorts. There was no way we were convincing you everything was okay so we just had to tell a few white lies and downplay it a bit."

"Well, why didn't you just tell me?"

"…I don't know." Ron looked thoroughly confused. "I guess…I think it was just something I needed to figure out on my own. Hermione pushed me in the right direction but the rest was up to me. And I'm much happier for having figured it all out. But I'm going to sleep now, that was way too long a story for this time of night." Ron said, a yawn taking control of his mouth before he pulled back the curtains around Harry's bed and climbed into his own. As the pair of boys said their goodnights, both were thinking back on the past.

Harry had been doing that a lot lately. Thinking about his friends. Growth. Development. The process of maturing. It was all something he might miss out on in some way or another.

..:..

Harry couldn't move.

He couldn't talk either.

He was frozen by the intense grip this latest headache had on him. It was the most painful yet. It struck him suddenly in the middle of potions class, when he had been getting some more armadillo bile from the potions cupboard, and boy did it like to throw its weight around in his head.

The glass bottle he had been carrying fell out of his grasp and smashed on the floor while he grabbed the desk beside him with one hand, his knuckles turning white with the strength of his grip, and used the other to hold his head, his eyes closed. It took every drop of willpower he had to get through the ruthless bout of pain, the tiny squeak of distress escaping his throat acting as the only indication he gave vocally that something was wrong.

People were asking him what was wrong, and Professor Snape now stood beside him, demanding an explanation.

But Harry had no energy to spare in order to reply right now. He focused on breathing deeply instead, his brow creased and his eyes squeezed tightly closed. When the pain didn't fade after the initial explosion however, he couldn't help the desperate whine that escaped his throat. His fingers tightened their grip in response, pulling on his hair slightly, and he hunched his shoulders slightly by tensing them up completely. His body trembled with pain and the effort it took to withstand it.

Then, finally, it was over.

Everyone looked at Draco Malfoy askance while he stood there with his wand in one hand and a handful of Harry's shirt in the other as he lowered him to the ground next to his desk, which also happened to be the desk Harry had been using as support. He had just grabbed Harry's shirt and stupefied him.

He looked back at them all and gave a slight shrug.

"What? It's not like any of you lot were doing anything. I'd rather not spend my potions period watching Potter have a spaz attack, thank you very much. Now, can we please get back to the potion? I think his interruption ruined it." Draco scowled as he stirred his potion.

"Screw you Malfoy! Only you would think of your potion after something like that! If it was you, you'd expect everyone to be falling over themselves with worry!" Hermione snarled, looking more than shaken by Harry's episode.

"That is enough Miss Granger. You can clean up this mess for that little outburst there. And Mr. Malfoy, as you were the one to stun him you can be the one to take him to the hospital wing. I refuse to lug the boy around the castle."

"But Professor - !"

"No arguments, Mr. Malfoy. Go." Snape said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Both of the teenagers scowled at their potions master and set about doing what they were told, though Hermione couldn't resist telling Malfoy that if he dared do anything to Harry he'd be in for it, to which the boy just rolled his eyes and sneered at her.

Draco sighed and bent down, wondering how on earth he was supposed to pick the boy up. Eventually, he placed his hand under Harry's head and lifted him up so that he was in a sitting position with his other arm around his back. Once he'd done this he positioned the arm closest to Harry's head around the back of his neck, so that his head was supported, and then under his arm, pulling him in close to his chest so that Harry's head rested against him. Once he'd done this he used his other arm to scoop under Harry's legs at the knee and lift them up a little so that they were bent in an upside down "V" position.

Then he got stuck. He was in position. But he didn't know how to go from kneeling to standing without dropping Potter.

"Err…Blaise? A hand here please?"

Blaise laughed at him. "I wondered when you would ask."

The boy knelt down on the other side of Harry and placed a hand under Harry's legs along with Draco's, and another around Harry's back.

"Alright, one, two, three!" both boys stood at the same time with Blaise taking some of the weight and steadying Harry so that he didn't fall out of Draco's arms.

Draco began his journey to the hospital wing as he tried not to think about the fact that he was carrying his opponent in his arms, like some kind of simpering prince, carrying his princess off into The-Light-Of-Happily-Ever-After's. It was a concept he and Blaise had come up with during their usual playful banter, with the aim to tease Pansy for actually liking the pure cheesiness that muggle fairy tales churned out. Looking down at the boy in his arms Draco couldn't help but feel curious about what he might see, especially with the opportunity to study Potter without him knowing he was being watched.

It was kind of creepy to see Harry looking so vulnerable, thought Draco. Every time they had an encounter he was nothing but passion and energy, unwavering and strong, even in the face of Draco's most terrible insults.

It was one of the things Draco loved most about fighting with him. He actually presented a challenge. He felt guilty about arguing with other people because it always ended with him winning and the other person upset, it was too easy really.

But when he argued with Harry he could let go and stop thinking about how hurtful anything he might say would be because he knew it would all turn out alright in the end. Harry always bounced back and he never lost his animation. And best of all, he could keep up with Draco for wit and smart-ass comebacks. Most people were too intimidated by him to have their brain functioning enough to think of anything worth saying back to him in the heat of an argument.

It was kind of a relief to be able to do that with someone, because it let Draco throw out every angry and stressed feeling he had. It was a bit ironic really. That he would seek out an argument for the sake of stress relief when arguments and fights were one of the things people found most stressful.

He was almost at the hospital wing by now and looked down at his classmate in his arms. He was surprisingly light; you wouldn't guess his size and weight just looking at him. It was damn near impossible with the hideous excuse for clothes he wore. However, it looked like Potter had gotten a new pair of glasses. It's about ruddy time he chucked those in the bin; they weren't attractive in the least, not that Draco had been looking before. And he was only noticing his opponent's new glasses now because of his sheer proximity to the Gryffindor Seeker. It's not like he was ogling Harry bloody Potter like Pansy liked to imply on a regular basis.

The girls all said it gave him a manly, rugged kind of vibe, which they seemed to find extremely attractive. They liked a guy who could get down and dirty apparently, a guy who had no qualms about getting some hard work done using his hands, and his clothes most definitely suggested that he did.

He could see what they meant if he was going to be completely honest with himself but he had to admit there was a serious downfall to the clothes, and that was the fact that they did nothing for him. Most people had at least one top or pair of trousers or something that showed off one of their best features. But those clothes hid absolutely everything…however the glasses…only enhanced his green eyes.

Draco snorted.

The boy was completely clueless really, he was the boy-who-lived, he had serious potential to be the sweet-heart to every girl in the freaking school, but did he even try and look good? To catch their attention or anything?

Nope.

Idiot.

It wasn't like every girl didn't fancy him already. It was quite disgusting really. Even the Slytherin girls wished on some level that they were one of those important to him. He was just that nice to everyone. It was easy to see that he made you feel special if he deemed you worthy of giving you the time of day.

Well, maybe not so much anymore. For the last couple of years it was like Potter had faded entirely. Draco remembered he had been insanely touchy-feely with his friends. He was constantly hugging that Granger girl, and even the guys had gotten used to Harry flinging an arm around their shoulders and giving them a big kiss on the head while he joked around. Not the soft, sweet kind he would give all the girls, more like the kind of kiss that would go along with a cheesy grin before he ran off to do something crazy. And that was a fairly common occurrence. He was always doing something amusing, and he was the center of attention a lot of the time.

Recently however he had been keeping a bit of a low profile. His vibrancy and enthusiasm for life had dimmed, he stopped showering affection on anyone and everyone he liked, he talked less and less, and his laughs and smiles weren't the same either.

Draco remembered when he used to smile widely and easily, how when he laughed he did it with everything he had, letting go completely in the expression of his happiness and amusement.

Draco tried to pinpoint when Harry's spirited nature had begun to diminish. It had been a couple of years ago he thought. Around the time Cedric Diggory had died.

What the hell was up with him anyway? It had been ages since Harry had done much except go through the motions of life. Or, act normal at least. Anyone else observing him wouldn't see any difference, thinking he was acting just as any normal person would, but those who knew him would know that Harry was normally on a whole other level of living compared to others in reality. Harry acting like any other normal person was the equivalent to Harry on a downer. And now there was something wrong with him.

This recent incident in potions was probably connected to that time Pomfrey came to potions, Draco would bet on it. He had actually forgotten that incident, but it came back to him now.

He deposited Harry on the bed and met Pomfrey's eyes as she crossed the room to the bed he was standing at.

"I'm not sure what happened, he just dropped what he was holding and held his head. He wasn't responding and whatever was wrong didn't seem to be getting better so I stupefied him."

Poppy nodded and brushed Harry's hair out of his face.

"Thank you for bringing him Mr. Malfoy, you can go."

"Right. Bye." Draco tried to linger as long as possible so that he could see what Poppy did to treat Harry, if she used a potion he recognized maybe he could figure out what was wrong with him. But Poppy just made Harry comfortable and left him to sleep.

Draco left, disappointed that he couldn't figure out this new mystery of what was wrong with Potter.

..:..

Later that evening, Hermione and Ron sat at a table in the Gryffindor common room quietly discussing their friend. What happened in potions baffled Hermione, because Ron had reassured her that the other night when Harry had come into the common room wearing some snazzy new glasses, that Harry had said that they would help his migraines in tandem with the potions that he was supposed to procure from the hospital wing. No matter how much Harry and Ron tried to reassure her, Hermione knew more about the human body and the way that it worked than them. Her parent's medical background saw to that. Many people in the muggle world had turned their noses up when she had said something similar to them, thinking that if you were a dentist that you didn't have to go through the same pre-med school like a "real doctor", but what they didn't know was that her mum Emma Granger had minored in nursing because she hadn't yet made up her mind which route she wanted to take: dentistry or nursing. So yes she did indeed know what she was talking about thank you very much. The headaches seemed to be more to her than his Voldemort induced visions, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Ron brought her out of her musings by opening his Defense textbook with a loud thump. It was plainly obvious that he wanted homework help, so why couldn't he just ask? BOYS!

"I'm stuck on this last bit of my essay for Professor Jacobs. I can't find a third aquatic magical creature who is known for its viciousness against humans and other species."

"Think about it Ron" admonished Hermione. She loved Ron dearly, but she wasn't willing to give up her academic integrity by allowing him to copy hers unless he was ill, since he wasn't, she was going to make him figure it out with her help. "You recall the second task of the Triwizard Tournament and Fleur's near disqualification when she failed to retrieve her hostage before the time limit?"

"Err, yeah. No bloke in his right mind could've missed that pretty little thing," replied Ron thickly.

Hermione huffed. "Well then, I'll leave it to you to figure out such a simple hint and to contemplate that 'pretty little thing'. Her sheer beauty will earn you an 'o' on your essay I'm sure," said Hermione the sarcasm dripping from her tone. But this went right over Ron's head.

"Come on 'Mione' can't you just tell me? Professor Jacobs information about the assigned essay was kind of vague."

"Not if you're too busy reminiscing about how Fleur looked when she came out of the lake dripping wet with scratches and bruises covering her head-to-toe from the very creatures that I'm trying to get you to name," said Hermione hands on hips.

"C'mon Hermione. You've helped Harry and I loads of times."

"I'll give you a hint, they're also refered to as water demons but don't expect me to get you out of a tight spot again, especially, when you're thinking of another woman when I do so, and just because I did in the past doesn't make it right. I have asperations to become Headgirl you know."

Ron banged his head on the table in frustration.

Then he had an eureka moment and he practically shouted, "Grindylows! How could I've missed that?"

"Honestly Ron, I don't know. But you finally got it."

"If Professor Jacobs wasn't such a ruddy poor Professor then I wouldn't have had to ask anyone."

"O really now? Professor Lupin already covered water demons in our third year. Were you taking a kip or something?"

"Nah, I just forgot about them, we went over so many magical creatures that year that's all."

Hermione laughed at Rons atypical behavior. He would never change. "Sure you weren't…you remember that. But I agree with you, he's the second worst Defense Professor we've had. I mean, he hasn't even started us on nonverbal magic yet, when every other professor has. Do you want to see if we can persuade Harry to start up the DA again?"

"Sure, as long as it doesn't interfere with his Quidditch practices. But please 'Mione, don't remind Professor Jacobs about nonverbal magic, it's really difficult to perform as is."

" I won't, but it's bound to come up in at least one of his lectures before the year is over. Honestly, Quidditch isn't the most important thing in the world. However, being able to defend yourself against the death eaters, dark creatures, and Voldemort is paramount to our survival. In comparison, Quidditch is but a tiny blip on Harry's radar, and I have a feeling that he would choose the right priority if it came down to it," stated Hermione.

In a rare show of gratitude, Ron thanked Hermione profusely for her help on his essay.

Changing the topic of their conversation a bit, Hermione said, "I do concur with you and the rest of the students about Professor Jacobs's teaching style. We already covered dark creatures in our third year. We're sixth years for crying out loud."

"Yeah, I never dreamed that we could get saddled with a Professor that almost matches the sheer incompetence of Umbitch."

Hermione was unable to hold in the chuckle that burst from her lips. And with that, Ron and Hermione put their slight disagreement behind them.

..:..

There was no way Harry could deny it now. Whether he liked it or not, whether he was ready for it or not, death was charging at him at a merciless pace, and there was nothing he could do about it. In two years he could very well be gone from this world, his chance at life expired, and could he truly say he was happy with that? Would it be worth it to have a few more miserable years fighting for his life on a daily basis, having poison literally running through his vanes; after all, from what he understood from Poppy, the other day, the treatment for wizards with cancer was far more intensive than the muggle method and wasn't a guarantee. Apparently, it would've been better if he was less magically powerful, because if his magic hadn't masked his symptoms for so long, he'd have better odds, because they could've caught it earlier. His magic had allowed the tumor to grow to an impressive size, though how impressive only muggle scans could reveal. Did he want quantity of life over quality of life? Decisions. It was an insurmountable decision, one that he wasn't sure he could make on his own volition, but then again, his whole life thus far had been comprised of moments of bliss in a world of turmoil.

He felt cheated that he might not be a part of his friends' lives anymore, but he was just realizing that his death would mean the end of his own chance at life. He was so proud of the people they were becoming, but where was his own growth and development?

Harry lay on his stomach along the Gryffindor couch, staring at one of his schoolbooks but getting no reading done.

After spending so long remembering everyone else as they used to be and feeling pleased for them at how far they had come since then, he couldn't help but take a trip down his own memory lane. What he found left him feeling utterly confused as the weight of his realization settled around him.

While his friends had grown with the life experience they gained, all he could see for himself was decay. He had spent the past two years floating through life as though things would never change while everyone around him grew up.

He could remember when he was in primary school, strumming away happily on a school guitar and making up songs to pass the break and lunch hour away. He'd been determined to learn how to play the instruments, and passionate about making music, because it was something that brought a lonely boy some joy into the terrifying world around him.

He was quite good at music in school actually. Art too, but he hadn't gotten quite the same buzz out of it in comparison to his music. The best thing about it was that the Dursleys couldn't care less about the creative subjects, so he was allowed to excel at them.

He smiled sadly as he remembered practicing as much as he could every day at school. His determination had paid off eventually when he could play the guitar, piano and drums extremely well and knew the basics of a number of other instruments. His best instrument of all, however, was his voice.

When was the last time he had sat down at a piano, or wrote a song? Or, for that matter, and most importantly, when was the last time he felt that simple, pure happiness?

If he could feel like that at a time when he had no one to turn to, why couldn't he feel like that now? Maybe he had grown up in a manner of speaking, maybe he had grown too old and understood too much to ever feel like that again.

But if that were true, why was it he still felt so stunted? It was like he was trapped on all sides so that any kind of emotional growth and development was prevented.

He couldn't even remember when he had started feeling like this, he just knew it had been that way for a long time and he never would have acknowledged it if it weren't for the cancer. And he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing yet.

..:..

Three weeks had gone by since Poppy had discovered Harry's tumor and she believed it was finally beginning to sink in. She'd had enough time to think Harry's situation through, and there were some things she knew she had to deal with, including his reaction to the horrible news.

But that would come later.

First she needed to have a difficult conversation with Severus, which was why she was now standing in the doorway of his personal potions lab. He shot her a glance of acknowledgement, before turning back to the plant he was currently picking leaves from and eyeing the simmering potion on his desk every few seconds.

"I haven't yet finished that Pepper-Up potion, it still needs to stand a little longer. I will bring it to you tomorrow."

"That's not why I'm here. I-"

"In that case I'll get started on the burn salve once I'm finished with this, I thought you'd be running low by now."

"Severus, I'm not here about potions. Well, not for the hospital wing anyway. I need to speak with you."

His hand slowed in its journey from the stirring rod to the next ingredient. He turned to look at her for a few seconds and seemed to find whatever it was he was searching for.

"I won't be long in bringing this to a stage where it can be left to sit. If you find yourself a seat in my office, I can be with you fairly soon."

Poppy gave him a small smile, thankful he was a perceptive enough man that she didn't have to spell out that the topic of conversation she had intended was one she considered important. Urgent even.

It wasn't long before he appeared on the threshold between lab and office, wiping his hands on a cloth and making his way around his desk to take a seat. Once he was settled and sufficiently potions-ingredient free, he indicated he was listening and that Poppy should begin her explanation of what she wanted of him.

"I was wondering if you could come up with any possibilities for a potion capable of breaking, or at least bending, the Healers Oath?"

The man raised an eyebrow, causing Poppy to blush as she realized how this would probably look.

"And why would you feel the need to do that?"

"I can't tell you without breaking it first."

"So it's the confidentiality component you wish to break then." Severus frowned. "As I'm sure you are aware, Poppy, The Healer's Oath exists for a reason. I can't think of a good reason you might have for wanting to be free of it."

Poppy clasped her hands in front of her in her lap in an effort to remain calm when it seemed as though Severus did not seem particularly willing to help her.

"Of course they exist for a reason. It is for that specific reason that I am interested in the possibility of breaking it in the first place! My duty as a healer, and as someone who took that oath more seriously than I would my marriage vows, is to see to it that anyone under my care does not come to any unnecessary harm if it is within my power to prevent it. But that vow is stopping me from doing so! By breaking it, I would really be ensuring the purpose for it was recognized and respected!"

"While that is undoubtedly the most animated I have ever seen you in putting your point across, I can't help but be wary here Poppy. If there is a problem with one of the students that worries you, why not just go to their parents, or alternatively, should the parents be the problem, the Oath's Exception? If it is a student with problems involving abusive parents then Dumbledore will no doubt be the Oath's choice of Exception as he is the most responsible for their care beyond their guardians at this time, what need do you have to break healer-patient confidentiality beyond that? You know as well as I do that it is highly unethical to do what you are asking of me. Especially considering that you can't, apparently, give me your reasons for doing so."

"Then I guess you will have to make the decision based on nothing more than what you know of me and what reasons you believe I would and wouldn't do this for."

Severus sighed and placed his chin in his hands with his elbows on the desk, a far-away look coming over him as he contemplated this predicament. After a rather long wait, he eventually seemed to make up his mind, giving Poppy a stern look as he delivered his verdict.

"Consider yourself lucky that I think of you as a more than trustworthy woman. I will begin work immediately. I have a few theories beginning to form already."

Poppy seemed to sag in her chair with the release of tension in her muscles at his decision.

"Thank you Severus, I promise you won't regret this. It's you I wish to speak to about the matter with actually, I feel you could be a great help in the given situation." Severus looked slightly surprised.

"Oh. Well, I will inform you as soon as I think I have a working formula. Goodbye." replied Severus as the pair stood from their seats.

Poppy smiled a wide, relieved grin.

"Thanks again. You've done the right thing here." she said, before leaving the potions master to his complicated formulas and ingredient lists, closing the door softly behind her.

Now all she had to do was deal with Harry.

She would understand if Harry had been profoundly upset at the news of his cancer, but she had the sneaking suspicion that he was in denial. Three weeks was enough time for the reality of his situation to hit home, so shouldn't he have made some kind of reaction by now? The only thing slightly different she could make out was that he spent a lot more time just sitting and observing those around him, looking contemplative, but not necessarily definitely sad or definitely happy. As far as she could tell her revelation hadn't put him up or down overall.

That worried her.

..:..

Harry chewed his lip, feeling utterly conflicted staring at the hospital wing doors.

Should he go in, or should he leave?

He had done a lot of thinking lately, but despite his struggles he hadn't managed to figure anything out. Instead it seemed like all he had managed to do was trigger a chain of other thoughts and realizations in a domino-like effect, which left him completely confused and unsure.

He felt like he needed to run his thoughts by someone else. He really wanted to talk to Poppy, but he didn't want to seem like some kind of wishy-washy drama-queen that got all emotional over something completely insignificant just for attention, whether it was consciously or subconsciously. What if she just got annoyed at him for complaining and moaning at her all the time when, in reality, other people had it much worse than him?

And besides, what obligation did she have to listen to him? He knew that they were closer than the other students she healed, but that didn't change the fact that she was just a healer. It wasn't her job to act as an agony aunt for him. He really should be talking to his friends about this. Except he couldn't because there was no way he was telling them, they would be too upset.

But still, that didn't mean he could pile it all on Poppy, it simply wasn't fair. He should just leave; it was stupid to come in the first place really. He needed to learn to deal with things himself.

Harry turned away from the doors in front of him and took two steps, but was halted as he made his third by the sound of the door behind him clicking as it was opened. He whirled round to find Poppy blinking at him in surprise.

Poppy had been trying to decide how she could go about dealing with Harry's attitude to his illness and bustling about the every-day odd jobs to be found in a hospital wing when she had heard footsteps outside the hospital wing door. She had continued changing the bedclothes on the last bed for a further minute, however, without hearing them continue on past the door. Unable to quell the feeling of curiosity, she went to investigate.

When she opened the door she was rather surprised, but happy, to see Harry turnaround from beginning to walk back the way he must have come. When she could see his face clearly however she saw the fragile look in his eyes that spoke of uncertainty. She gave him a pointedly happy grin.

"Oh it's you Harry! I thought I heard someone out here, is there something I can help you with?"

"Em, nah, its fine, I was just…I mean…I didn't…I was just going to…" Harry was fidgeting awkwardly in place, not knowing what to give as an excuse for being there, to which Poppy's smile softened.

"Would you like to come help me with restocking the potions shelves? I'm afraid I have an awful lot to do, I could use a hand." Harry finally relaxed a little and gave a small smile to the healer, seeing she wasn't suspicious or annoyed at finding him there. Instead she seemed rather cheerful at getting the opportunity to ask him if he wanted to help her in the hospital wing.

"Sure, I'd love to. I'm a bit bored anyway, I guess."

Poppy stepped back from the door so that her outstretched arm held the door open, allowing Harry to duck inside through the space between her body and the door.

"Just over here Harry. I need to bottle a lot of the potions first so why don't you do that and then I can label the bottles as we go along."

Harry stepped up to the row of cauldrons containing differently colored potions, some of which had the consistency of water while others were more like sludge. There were even some that looked more like colorful creams than potions. Poppy directed him to the cauldron on the end full of a smooth, creamy pink liquid similar to how a strawberry smoothie would look, except without the seeds.

"What's this for?" Harry asked, picking up the ladle and swirling the contents around to get a better feel for the texture.

"Pepper-Up potion. This is my last cauldron actually; Severus is making more for me."

"Does he make all of the potions for the hospital wing?"

"Yes, we're very lucky for it too. Most of you children take it for granted but you just wouldn't get the same standard anywhere else. Few people are willing to put in the time and effort it takes to perfect each potion to the fullest extent of its potential effects like he does."

"Hey! I am not a kid!" Harry exclaimed and wrinkled his nose in distaste at the implication that he was still a child, gaining a giggle from Poppy at his stereotypical, teenage response.

Harry held back his usual derogatory reply regarding Severus though. It had become habit for him to dismiss any of the potions master's good qualities, but who was he to deny the man's innate talent and passion for potions, really? He may be a judgmental and bitter old man, but you couldn't really avoid the fact that he had a knack for developing seemingly impossible to invent potions. He could probably do anything if he set his mind to it.

He had invented the Wolfsbane potion, for example.

And so, maybe he could create a cure for cancer…instead of a regimen of highly toxic potions that would more than likely just put the cancer into remission instead of cure the brain tumor permanently. Because Harry knew of someone who's cancer had returned after going into remission. He didn't want to be diagnosed as cancer free only to have it return with a vengance.

If people like him could work so hard just to make other peoples' lives that little bit easier, or even to save lives entirely, then Harry felt like he really had no right to pass judgment that they had nothing about them that was worth the effort of getting to know.

Harry had never had reason to consider it before now, but it was people like Severus who could end up saving his life. There was just no way he could continue to walk around thinking that things were as simple as "He's mean and evil", and it was for this reason his professor would have his respect. He still didn't like Snape, unkind as he was. But Harry had one of life's lessons staring him in the face, and he wasn't one to ignore it. So he would take it on board, and stop seeing things in the clear cut shades of black and white. He would no longer assume he knew anything about people until he had at least made an effort to understand.

Wasn't it one of the things he himself hated most about being famous? That people took one look and thought they knew everything? That they could write a book telling his life story and everything he had ever felt?

Poppy saw the intense quality in Harry's gaze and made an effort to snap him out of it.

"Right then, we'll start at this end and work our way along then shall we?"

"Sure." Harry replied, blinking away his train of thought and picking up the ladle to pour some of the potion into one of the empty bottles, which were stored in boxes under the table. Poppy stood next to him, waiting to label the potion when Harry handed it to her for going onto the shelf, and began their usual form of casual banter and easy conversation, though there was a while which wasn't so easy when they talked over Harry's newfound thoughts and opinions on the potions master.

..:..

Later that evening Harry collapsed with no amount of grace onto the nearest hospital bed. He had been glad for the opportunity to spend some time with Poppy again. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed how easy he found it to relax around her. She never seemed too demanding of him and he knew he didn't have to worry about saying something and have her think it was stupid.

Harry sighed and sat up on the edge of the bed at the reminder of why he had been here in the first place, and how he'd hesitated to walk through the door in his uncertainty.

He should have had more faith in her.

Poppy finished cleaning up their mess and came and sat down beside him.

"What's bothering you Harry? You know you can talk to me about anything." Poppy placed her arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled him in closer to her so that his head rested on her shoulder. Harry bit his lip.

"I think…" Harry began, unsure. "I think that I've been depressed for so long that it's like I've forgotten how it feels to be really happy or even normal anymore. There are times that I feel a moment of amusement something, like when someone makes a joke and I find it funny and laugh, but it always fades quickly. Y'know? I never just feel generally content, or happy, or at peace like everyone else. It's like that's their default but my default is to feel like crap and like I really can't be bothered with anything anymore. But it wasn't always like that. I used to be like them. And now…I might never get the chance to find myself again."

Poppy moved back a little and pulled Harry down so that his head lay in her lap and cast a warning spell on the hospital wing doors. Then she began running her fingers through Harry's hair in a comforting gesture while she thought on what Harry had said.

Harry meanwhile could feel himself getting more and more upset. He didn't really understand it himself, but for some reason he couldn't identify, he always felt fine until he had to talk about something to someone, and now he had told Poppy and she was acting all reassuring and comforting. It was almost as though he subconsciously thought that if he didn't talk about it then no one could react sympathetically, and if no one did that then he could pretend to himself that it really wasn't a big deal and he was being ridiculous. Then the problem didn't seem so bad anymore.

But he had told Poppy, and now the emotion came.

The first tear landed on Poppy's skirt as Harry's face crumpled up in an effort to keep them at bay, his fingers held onto Poppy's skirt at the knee.

Poppy rubbed Harry's arm and made soft reassuring noises, telling Harry just to let it out. It was far healthier than to try and bottle it up and she would just worry if he did.

With her coaxing, Harry let the tears run and the sobs tore through him, his grasp on her skirt death-like in its strength.

When the tears no longer flowed and Harry's body more shivered than heaved Poppy spoke once more.

"I can see you haven't been very happy Harry, and I know the cancer has scared you into realizing that you're missing something you don't want to die without. But that doesn't mean it is unattainable. It simply means that you haven't been looking for it until now. Do you understand?" Poppy looked down at the distressed boy on her lap, "Now you can go out there and do what you have to do, find what you need to find, and feel what you need to feel. Don't think of death as a reason you can't do many things. Make it a reason you will do them, instead of letting it bring you down. You have time left yet, spend it well and I believe you will find what it is that you speak of. Remember that as long as you've got something to live for, and you stay positive, nothing is impossible."

There was a pause where Harry considered her words.

"I guess…it's all about choices, isn't it? Dumbledore said something like that to me once. He said that it's our choices that make us who we are. So, I just have to make the choice between being a victim, and twisting this to make it positive, to become stronger, right?"

Poppy smiled.

"That's a very good way of looking at it Harry. And I think it's the key to you solving your problem."

"Well…we'll find out soon enough then I suppose…"

"And that reminds me," said Poppy trying to keep her voice sounding upbeat. "Have you given any thought to what I said last time? I know that the mere possibility of undergoing something that will make you feel wretched before you get better is frightening, but it's really for the best for you to make your decision sooner rather than later."

"Yeah Poppy, I know, but once I decide there's no going back is their? And the wizarding world is depending on me to defeat Voldemort," said Harry, happy to see that Poppy didn't shudder at the name as most of the wizarding world did upon hearing the name, which was stupid really. Merlin, it was just a bloody name. It isn't like Voldemort is going to suddenly appear in front of you like a jack-in-the-box and AK you on the spot for doing so. Nor did he have supersonic hearing that would enable him to hear it if his name was spoken and Harry was fed up with people acting like the name was some sort of Egyptian curse that would become active instantaneously by doing so. The wizarding world really was made up of a bunch of sheeple with the exception of a few intelligent people. Why he wished to save them he didn't know at times, however, the innocent children didn't deserve to die just because Harry cared more about his own health and well-being. He had made up his mind. "I'll agree to undergo those tests you spoke of the moment that it becomes apparent that I need to start treatment. I promise you that the next episode I have will be the last. If it happens sooner rather than later, I'll grant you permission to contact that person, but not until then."

'Would it be too late when Harry did decide?' thought Poppy. She was glad that she had asked Severus to make that potion, because she feared that Harry's decision would come too late for them to do anything for him.

..:..

A/N: This fic will share some components of cannon, like Dumbledore's mysterious absences. In cannon, his friends didn't believe him about Malfoy. Obviously Malfoy isn't the one who's scheming, but is someone else? Nonverbal spells will also play a role. The horcruxes will play a part in this one, but I can't stand the idea of the deathly hallows, so they won't factor into my fic, and Harry won't kill himself as a martyr as she had him do. The final battle will turn out differently and Harry will grow a backbone in this one :P

In addition, Harry's feeling a bit down in this chapter, but finding out that you have a form of cancer that could very well kill you causes one to grieve very much like if someone that was close to them died. Since I aim to make this as medically realistic as possible, this will be a theme in another chapter, but after that, he'll come to terms with his lot in life as we all must to proceed with our daily lives.

"on the sly" basically just means sneakily lol.

The next chapter will start out with Draco when he returns from classes on the day of their potions lesson when Draco carried him to the hospital wing.


	3. Chapter 3: Exposure of Betrayal

Diagnosis

A/n: Thanks for all of the reviews and faves you lot have sent me thus far.

For story warnings, see first chapter.

Disclaimer: Much to my regret, I don't own the copyrights to the Potter verse.

Chapter 3: Exposure of Betrayal

..:..

Draco stepped into his common room at the end of the day and was immediately met with the kind of knowing looks that made it essential he should find out what exactly it was they thought they had on him.

As soon as possible.

He eyed his friends with a suspicious look.

"What?" He drew the word out, making his doubt clear, his eyes still narrowed. Blaise Zabini's eyes twinkled with a hidden laughter as he replied casually.

"Oh, nothing really. I was just telling the guys that you carried Potter to the hospital wing during potions."

Draco knew that Blaise was dangling the source of their amusement right in front of his eyes, yet he couldn't see it.

"…so? Snape made me…" Pansy was the next one to speak, through her smile.

"Oh you poor baby, did you lose your wand? Do you need me to levitate anything for you perhaps?"

Finally it clicked.

"Oh my God! I completely forgot about my wand!" Blaise, Pansy, and Millicent all burst out laughing, as Draco finally understood what they were getting at.

"Don't pretend Draco, we understand."

"What the hell, Millie? I genuinely just forgot about my wand! Really…oh my God this is so embarrassing!"

"It's okay hun, we know you're not getting any. Who can blame you for wanting to carry Potter like a muggle fire-fighter? You can admit it and we'll be totally okay with it. We know the truth, there's no use trying to hide it from us! He's your perfect match!" Pansy sniggered as the rest of the group enjoyed a bout of hysterics at her teasing. Draco groaned and plopped himself down into the space left on the couch.

"Oh shut UP about that already, I can't believe you're all still banging on about it! That stupid quiz is nonsense, it just spits out any random name!"

"Hey! My quiz is NOT nonsense thank you very much! I'll have you know it calculates who your best match is based on how you answered the questions. Even YOU admitted that logically Potter is the best choice based on your answers. What happened to being able to look at things objectively, huh?"

"That was before I knew you'd all make it some kind of completely un-funny joke that you absolutely refuse to let go of. Seriously, you're like a starving rabid dog chewing on a piece of meat the way you cling to it."

"Aw, come on Draco, even you have to admit it's provided something a little less boring and monotonous to do here for once. Potter-spying is fun! And just think, we never would have noticed HALF the stuff we have if we hadn't started that little joke just to annoy you." Blaise joined in.

"It was hardly a joke! You started stalking the boy just to point out all of the things I would love in a boyfriend that he had or was! You know what? Maybe you're gay as well, Blaise. Maybe all of you fancy him. I bet that's where this obsession has come from." Draco nodded conclusively, as though this would make it so.

"Nah, he's just interesting. He may be a closed-minded, prejudiced little prick as well, but I'll give him that at least. Think about it, whenever he's been brought up as a topic of conversation, have we ever gotten bored of it? Was it ever stopped or finished simply because we ran out of things to say? No. Think objectively Draco, and with an objective viewpoint for once," said Daphne Greengrass.

"Okay, okay. I concede defeat! Potter is supremely interesting and would be the perfect guy, which is why I go along with your stupid Potter-themed insanities, if it weren't for the massively huge fact that you are all ignoring that he hates Slytherins and thinks we're all evil! For no reason! He's just as bad as every other discriminatory person who dismisses us without a second thought, and the fact that you lot are even entertaining the thought that anyone outside of slytherin could understand or accept us is absurd."

"Urgh, mood killer. Sometimes it's nice to pretend that we're part of their world too you know. Then maybe our options would be a little less limited." Millie glanced at the people around the room. "I feel sorry for you Draco. No wonder you don't get any action with this lot as your choices. And that's assuming everyone else is gay too!" Pansy giggled at her friends joke.

"Keep it down would you! You'd think you were trying to broadcast my sexuality to everyone here!" Draco hissed.

Pansy sighed and sat down, everyone much calmer with Draco's harsh words and tone. Millicent was the first to break the silence.

"Do you fancy anyone yet? There must be someone by now!"

"No. There's honestly no one that's really caught my interest."

"I think your standards are way too high. Especially considering your sexuality is in the minority." Blaise chipped in.

"Maybe… oi, why didn't you point out to me I could levitate Potter when I was messing about trying to lift him?"

"Same reason as everyone else probably."

"And that was…what exactly?"

"It was way too much fun watching you struggle, knowing that the great, wizarding pureblood Malfoy forgot his wand like some kind of muggle-born, to tell you the truth." Blaise's grin did nothing but annoy Draco, who just blinked at him before rising out of the chair and making his way down the corridor to the boys dorms.

"I have homework to do."

..:..

Harry scowled resentfully at his potions textbook. He tried to understand, really, he did, but how on earth could a drop of urine from a fire salamander have one effect on a tiny volume of potion, and the exact same effect on a huge volume of potion, within the exact same time limit? Shouldn't one drop have less effect or take longer to get an effect at all on a larger volume of potion in comparison to a smaller volume of potion?

Harry just felt like crying with frustration at this point. He hated having to struggle so hard in his potions class. He knew he wasn't stupid, really, he could do this, but for some reason potions just eluded him. He tried so hard and never seemed to get anywhere. He didn't mind not doing very well in his other classes, because he knew he could be a million times better at them if he really wanted to. That is, if he actually worked hard at it, though he'd never really done so what with other things seeming much more important to him in life. Like surviving the annual dramas that seemed to bloom around him in surprisingly intense bursts.

Before Harry could get to the stage where he was pulling out his hair trying to write an essay about something that was complete nonsense to him, he was, thankfully, distracted by the opening of the portrait hole briefly as he turned to see who it was stepping into the common room.

Ginny was the one who strode through the hole and walked briskly up the stairs to her dormitory, making no eye contact with Harry and offering no greetings to her brother or her friends.

Something must be up.

"Hey guys, I'm going to go speak to Ginny for a while, I need a break for a bit I think."

"'Kay, make sure you do finish that essay though Harry."

"Don't worry 'Mione, I will."

"Are you going up to her dorm?"

"Yep."

"Show off." Ron rolled his eyes jokingly as Harry laughed.

"Just because you can't make it without falling…" Harry made the rather childish gesture of sticking his tongue out at Ron, though he neglected the chant of "Naaaah, naaaah, nah, naaaah, naaaah," retorted Harry. "Doesn't mean I should refrain from going up to check on Ginny."

Harry climbed out of his seat and made his way over to the stairs up to the girls' dorm as his friends had a bit of a chuckle at his antics and went back to their homework. He was the only boy capable of getting into the girls dorms as he was the only one with the strength and endurance to manage the climb up the staircase. There had been a competition of sorts amongst the boys one evening which had involved all of them trying to get up to the dorms and failing miserably as their strength failed them and they fell onto the stairs, activating the spell to turn them into a slide. There had been much hilarity as I'm sure you can imagine, especially amongst the spectator girls, though there was plenty of cheering when Harry managed what had seemed impossible.

When Harry reached the bottom of the stairs he placed both hands high up on the walls on either side of him at the entrance and jumped up, placing each of his feet on the walls on as well, in order to support his weight. He now had a hand and a foot on each wall. He then placed all of his weight onto his arms and swung his legs further forward on the wall. When he had them securely in place against the walls he then placed most of his weight back on his legs to hold him up off of the floor as he shimmied his hands forward so that his body was straight up and down once more instead of his upper half angled backwards. He repeated this until he had climbed his way up the staircase by distributing his weight between the two walls on either side of the stairs to keep him off of the floor, and dropped down in front of Ginny's dormitory.

Harry knocked on Ginny's door to let her know he was coming in and opened it quietly and slowly so she would have time to duck for cover if she was getting changed. What he found when he stepped inside was Ginny lying on her stomach on her bed, her head buried in a pillow as she cried, causing his brow to crease in concern. He made his way across to the bed, climbing on it next to her and stroked up and down her back with his hand in a gesture of comfort.

"What's up Gin? If you tell me I'll make sure and do everything I can to fix it, I promise. Come on, you can talk to me." He coaxed until Ginny rolled onto her side so that she was facing him, prompting Harry to lie down beside her, wipe away her tears and stroke her hair.

"Harry?" she seemed surprised.

"In the flesh." Harry smiled at her.

Ginny said nothing more, but lunged into Harry's inviting arms and broke down into fresh sobs as she clung to him tightly, just basking in his caring attention. It had been so long since Harry had begun to drift away from his friends, it felt like coming home again to have him come to her to look after her. She had missed the comfort he offered.

When she had once more begun to calm down Harry asked what was wrong again, using the same soft tones he always used when concerned about someone.

"Urgh. It's stupid really."

"Of course it's not stupid, it has you upset doesn't it?"

"It's just…Michael. I mean, I know he's just being a prick and I should ignore him, and I do most of the time, but, you know, sometimes it's just hard to ignore some of the things he says."

"He still hasn't backed off?" Harry questioned incredulously.

"Not really. Why, should he have backed off by now?" Ginny's tone was colored with confusion.

"Oh, um, I guess I didn't expect him to still be at it after all this time…Ginny, I'm really sorry." Ginny gave him a surprised look at the sincere, sad quality to his voice.

"What on earth for? You've done nothing wrong."

"I know, but that's the point really. I should have done something about Michael before now. I'm sorry that I haven't really been there for you for so long. It's been ages since we really talked about anything really deep or important. It's been ages since we did anything really fun as well actually, hasn't it?"

"Well…you've had a lot going on Harry. I understand, really, I do. It's not your fault at all, I don't blame you for anything."

"That shouldn't matter though. I promise I'll be there for you for anything Ginny from now on, seriously, don't hesitate to come to me, okay? I'll always have time for you. And if I don't, I'll make time. Leave this Corner guy to me too, I'll deal with it, so don't you worry anymore, 'kay? Can you do that for me?" Ginny grinned at him.

"Gladly." and she was glad, that she could pass the issue on to Harry to take care of, because she knew he would deal with everything and she wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.

..:..

The next day, after a relatively uneventful combination of meals and classes, Harry dumped his bag onto the common room couch and turned around, about to head off to the hospital wing. His head had been aching the past couple of hours and he was due to get the pain potions Poppy was supposed to be getting in for him today. Hopefully they would help with the headache.

"Harry? Where are you going?"

"Pomfrey has those migraine potions for me in today, I was just going to go get them."

"Oh right. Oh! That reminds me! After that time in potions with the vision you got from Voldemort I went to the library and got some books for you, hang on!" Hermione rummaged around in her bag for a few seconds and finally produced three books with varying titles, each conveying the same concept: Occlumency. Hermione bit her lip nervously as she held them out: trying to keep her skepticism about the true nature of Harry's headaches off her face as to not worry her friend any more than he clearly already was.

"I know that things didn't go well with you and Snape and that Dumbledore can't teach you, but I figured you could at least try and learn it on your own, you never know after all, I bet every little bit helps. If it helps stop the visions then that would be great, obviously, though I'd totally understand if you didn't really want to learn it, but still…" Harry cut off her nervous rambling in her uncertainty of how her offering of an attempted solution would be received. During her explanation her hands had slowly brought the books back into her body, clearly showing she thought he wouldn't want them.

"Thanks 'Mione, that was really thoughtful. I'll try and get started as soon as possible." Harry smiled at his friend and gave her a big bear-hug, ignoring the slightly shocked look on her face. His friends seemed to be adopting that look a lot lately. However, he wasn't fudging the truth when he said he'd study the books, because whilst he knew that visions from Voldemort weren't the current cause of his migraines, they probably would be at some point this year. The adults who thought that they dictated every little part of his life kept insisting that he learn Occlumency and on this he agreed wholeheartedly.

"Oh. Well, that's great Harry! Just ask me if you're confused about anything, obviously I'm no expert but I might be able to help out in some way, you never know." She wasn't just referring to Occlumency; he was her first friend and she would stick by him come what may. Harry nodded and placed the books into his bag for safe-keeping until he came back from the hospital wing to put them in his trunk.

"See you guys later."

"Bye Harry," said Ron and Hermione in conjunction as Harry waved and walked out of the portrait hole.

Harry's journey to the hospital wing went by in uninterrupted silence until a skinny third year Ravenclaw bloke walked up to him and grabbed his arm to halt his forward movement. Harry turned to the kid and asked, "What is it? Is there a problem?"

"Nah," said the boy who looked shocked that the savior of the wizarding world was actually talking to him in the flesh and it showed in the boy's words. "B-but Professor Dumbledore g-gave t-this to me to give to you at my earliest convenience." The young boy held out a hand with a letter in it.

Harry gnawed his lip. What did Albus want now? As far as Harry knew, the Headmaster wasn't one to pass on personal notes or requests in writing to students in the hallway; especially through the means of another student.

"Thank you…if I may ask, what is your name?"

"Anthony Miller," came the boy's reply.

"It's nice to meet you Anthony. Thank you for passing on the message to me."

"You're welcome," said the boy. Then he did an about-face and walked away whistling under his breath.

Now Harry's curiosity was really piqued. He had made it abundantly clear that he didn't care to talk to the Headmaster that evening in June, so why was he insistent on contacting him about something now when he had kept the prophecy secret for so many years?

Harry stood there in the middle of the hallway and unrolled the letter and proceeded to read the familiar slanted handwriting that he had read once before at Christmas time his first year:

Dear Harry:

This request is born out of necessity and nothing less Mr. Potter. If I may ask of you one request that's paramount to defeating a certain Dark lord it would be that you come to my office on Friday evening to explore the physiology and machinations of Tom Riddle. I feel that it's time I share with you one more aspect of his life that only I know of to date except Tom himself. In this matter, I must ask for your complete secrecy. And with that I leave you with this saying to ponder: "Immortality is a dream which people cry for and on their knees apply for, dispute, contend, and lie for, and if allowed, would be right proud, eternally to die for."

Sincerely:

Albus Dumbledore

PS: The password is acid pops.

Harry rolled up the letter and put it in his pocket for safe-keeping. He didn't know what Professor Dumbledore was nattering on about, but information gained is valuable no m matter who the source is. So yes he would go to the Headmaster's office as asked, but he would listen to what he had to say with the proper skepticism, because why now would he be telling him this when he had the chance when he finally saw fit to share the contents of the prophecy after keeping it to himself for so long? This just goes to show that Albus is unwilling and incapable of changing. But as the old saying goes, know thy enemy better than yourself. Harry needed to gather all of the dirt he could on Lord Voldemort if he was going to have any hopes of killing him before the treatment made him deathly ill, so he would do it, and it would be done. Like the decision would be to treat his cancer or not was permanent, so too would this one be.

..:..

Poppy seemed rather busy when Harry stepped into the hospital wing. As far as he could tell two third year boys had been involved in a flying accident and she was trying to patch them up. There also appeared to be a tiny first year girl sitting on a bed, all scraped up, and Poppy was trying to divide her attention between the two boys and the crying child.

Harry stepped up to the bed Poppy was currently at and followed her as she moved back over to the upset girl.

"Is there anything I can do that would help?"

"Oh I don't know Harry, I'm not supposed to…" the healer trailed off as she glanced back at the two injured boys whom she hadn't yet finished tending to, and looked back at the little girl, contemplating something. Finally she seemed to make a decision.

"Oh you'll manage just fine I'm sure! It's a simple spell, there's not much that can go wrong." She seemed to be speaking to herself more than Harry, but she then turned to him and spoke once more.

"If I taught you how to heal some minor cuts and scrapes would you be okay to be left to heal Holly while I deal with those two? I'm confident you'll manage but if not, or if you're not comfortable with it, I can do it myself."

"No, that's okay! It'd be really cool to learn to heal something actually, I promise I'll be really careful though, I don't want to hurt her."

"Right, Holly, do you mind if Mr. Potter practices healing up some of your scrapes? I'll let him have a go on some learning devices first and if he can manage well enough I'll let him try it on you. Is that okay?" The little girl had fallen silent and just nodded slightly, her eyes wide and bright.

"Right then Harry, this way." Poppy led Harry to the supply cabinet and fished out a bodiless arm, handing it to him. It was an obviously magical contraption, due to the real-flesh feeling of the object, over which Poppy waved her wand to prompt the appearance of a number of cuts and scrapes up the arm in ascending order of size and depth.

"This is a training device for those doing healer apprenticeships Harry. Now, what I want you to do is think the incantation "condotex" over the cut or scrape, and while you are doing that I want you to look at it and imagine the damaged flesh regrown and merging, and the blood vessels rejoining. Once you've done that I want you to think the incantation "obvolvocorium", and imagine a new layer of skin growing and covering over the newly healed flesh while waving your wand over the scrape. Does that make sense? Do you think you can manage that?"

"I think so, yeah. Do I have to cast the spell nonverbally though?"

"If you can Mr. Potter. You're in your sixth year and nonverbal magic is now expected of you in your course work if I'm not mistaken. You give it a try on the smallest one first, I'll be back in just a second."

Poppy went off to tend to the boys and Harry looked at the first scrape. He pictured in his head the damaged areas of flesh growing to repair the ragged edges, and even further, until they all met and merged together as he cast the incantation. The scrape on the arm followed the image in his head, leaving a patch of healed flesh instead of small scratches and abrasions. He then waved his wand slowly over the now bright pink area of open flesh and imagined a thin layer of skin growing over the appropriate area and joining with the rest of the skin, casting the second incantation in the process. When he was done everything seemed to be alright, though there appeared to be a bruise forming in the area he had healed, causing Harry to frown.

It wasn't supposed to do that.

Harry wanted to try again but he waited until Poppy had come back over to join him and take a look at his first attempt at healing.

"Not bad for a first go Harry! Try again, except this time try and get the blood vessels to rejoin and repair as well, that is what's causing the bruising." Harry nodded and brought up his wand to make another attempt, this time making sure to imagine the tiny blood vessels sealing together once more throughout the flesh, as well as the flesh itself growing back together into a healthy and undamaged state. This time, when he was finished there was no sign that anything had ever been wrong with the arm and, after a small wait, no bruises appeared.

"Very well done Harry! It takes most beginner healers a lot of practice to get the hang of healing like that. They find it difficult to imagine it properly in their head, because they don't really have any experience or first-hand knowledge on what the healing process truly goes like. It takes a few tries and then once they have the experience of doing it right they know how to properly visualize what needs to be done. Good job on picking it up so quickly!" Poppy was beaming with pride for Harry.

Harry couldn't help but blush, but he grinned shyly at her praise, pleased she was happy with his accomplishment. He thought he had done so well because he knew quite intimately the healing process for cuts and scrapes and burns etc. ranging from practically nothing to extremely severe.

"Alright, try the worst one so we can make sure but I think you'll do perfectly fine healing Miss Whyte."

Harry did as she asked and came across no problems, though he noticed that it had taken a lot more concentration and time to be able to continuously imagine the on-going process of growth and repair for the wider area of the wound and the deeper cuts. Poppy did nothing but beam at him and nod her head in approval before leaving him in order to go finish up tending to the younger boys.

Holly had been watching attentively, no longer seeming bothered by her painful looking cuts and scrapes in the face of something as, apparently, fascinating as Harry.

Harry smiled at her.

"Hello Holly. So, what happened that got you all banged up?" She continued to stare at him in a rather child-like manner as he held her arm in his hand and set about visualizing, waving and casting.

"I tripped on the stones outside. I always fall over, my friends say that I'm really clumsy. Are you really going to heal all of my sore bits?" Harry finished the first one and replied.

"Yep. The first one's done already, see?"

"Wow! That's so cool Harry! I wish I could heal stuff! Healers are really smart aren't they? I bet your friend could be a healer. She's really, really smart isn't she?"

"Well I'm sure you could be a healer someday. You just have to try as hard as you can and believe you can do it, no matter what anyone else says."

"You really think so? But my friend says…"

"It doesn't matter what your friend says, if you want it bad enough and you try hard enough I'm positive you'll manage. Don't let anyone else tell you that you can't okay?"

"Okay. I'll try really hard then Harry, I promise!"

"That's all anyone can ask of you." Harry smiled at the girl's enthusiasm and happiness at the idea that she could someday be a healer.

He couldn't be sure but he didn't think he, or anyone else, had been this childish in first year. She acted younger than 11 years old. He was almost done with her cuts and scrapes, with just a few left on her face to go. It looked an awful lot like she had fallen face first on those stones.

"You're my new friend." Holly announced firmly out of the blue.

"Really? Why is that?" Harry asked, a spike of amusement shooting through him.

"'cause you're really nice to me. And you can heal all my sore bits…do you want to be my friend?" Holly added on more doubtfully.

"Of course I do! Tell you what, I'll come visit you at your table at dinner some time, how does that sound?"

"Yay!" The girl threw her arms in the air as though cheering at a Quidditch match.

"Alright, that's it. You're all done." Harry informed her, a sense of pride in himself growing as he looked at the now unmarred skin of her face, palms and arms. Holly jumped off of the bed and hugged him around the middle tightly.

"Thank you Harry! I sit at the Slytherin table, come visit me soon okay?"

"Okay, bye!" Harry practically had to shout after her as she ran out of the hospital wing doors at top speed. Harry thought he was beginning to understand why she was considered to be so clumsy.

"Nicely done Harry; you'd make a good healer you know. Had you ever considered it before?"

"Not really. You have to get really good marks to be a healer, don't you?"

"Well…not necessarily. The good marks are more important for applying for an apprenticeship in healing. They are very difficult to get, because we can't just let any old person become a healer, obviously, just like you wouldn't let any old person become a surgeon in the Muggle world. So having good marks helps because, generally, when people do well in school, it shows that they are hard-workers and can pay careful attention. That is essential because if someone is unconcerned with the learning of healing they might seriously hurt a patient. There is no set time for an apprenticeship either because some people pick some things up much quicker than others."

"So there isn't an exam or something that signifies you being a proper healer at the end when you pass it? In the Muggle world, doctors and surgeons have to pass several rather complex exams before they become certified medical practitioners."

"No, a person becomes a fully-fledged healer when they take The Healers Oath. It is a binding magical contract with many different aspects geared towards making sure that patients get the best possible care."

"What kind of aspects does it have?"

"Well, the one you will be most familiar with is the confidentiality aspect. In your case it means that a healer cannot break healer-patient confidentiality unless it would be in your best interests to do so, and even then it is only possible to inform the guardians. The Healers Oath magically prevents confidentiality from being broken, except in such exceptional cases, by physically stopping the healer in question, I couldn't tell anyone about your family if I tried for example. Should the problem be with the guardians in the first place, however, The Oath appoints someone as The Oaths Exception, not very original I know, but it basically means that the spell detects the one person who is the most responsible for you and allows the healer to break the confidentiality in order to tell them. It is impossible as yet to break healer-patient confidentiality beyond that."

"Wait a minute…does that mean you told this Exception person about my family?" Harry gulped, trying to estimate the repercussions if she had. Poppy sighed.

"I'm sorry Harry. I know you didn't want me to tell anyone but I couldn't just stand by and watch you get abused in that awful home! I would have had you out of there in the blink of an eye if I could, it's just, he wouldn't stand for it." Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Who?" he asked, faintly.

"Professor Dumbledore."

"You mean, he knows? He knows about the Dursleys and he leaves me there to stay with them?" Harry's legs felt weak at the pure betrayal that leaked from his every pore, contaminating and tainting everything around him and forcing him to sit down on a bed before he fell down. All traces of happiness at his healing achievement were gone.

"Ohhhh, honey, I'm so sorry that he is The Oaths Exception, I really tried my hardest to get you out of there but he just wouldn't listen. He said it was imperative that you stay behind the blood wards. I know that you didn't want me to tell anyone, but, I just couldn't allow you to stay in that place! What you must think of me, all this time you thought I knew what was happening and didn't care enough to do something about it."

Poppy referring to Harry as "Honey" was, funnily enough, the part of her speech which had impacted him most. It gave him a start and pushed him towards realizing what this meant for his relationship with Poppy. He had always been happy that he knew he could trust her with even the worst of his secrets, but even he could admit that it had always been over-shadowed by the sadness that she must not care about him enough to break that trust in his own interest. He had heard many stories from his housemates of parents or friends doing something that they didn't like, but the family and friends were only doing it for their own good. Said friends had done nothing but complain of course, but he'd wished he had someone that was willing to do that for him. And now he had found someone who clearly cared about him a great deal.

But he had also lost someone else who he'd thought had cared about him to some degree at the same time. He was caught between two emotional extremes: love and elation, betrayal and sadness.

Harry abruptly moved from his statuesque position on the bed and wrapped his arms tightly around Poppy, feeling the tears begin to fall as he finally settled on one of the warring emotions, pushing the others to the side for later.

He finally had someone he could depend on.

Dumbledore may have turned out to be nothing more than a selfish, obsessive meddling old man with nothing on his mind but the defeat of the dark at any cost, but that was unimportant in comparison to the bond he now felt he had with this healer, standing in front of him and hugging him back. The woman who had been nothing but kind to him, who had taken care of him, listened to his problems, comforted him when he cried, encouraged him, given him advice, and he now realized, tried to protect him.

His tears were silent as they slid down his face, a testament to his feelings over finding out that he was truly cared for. Poppy rubbed his back and made comforting noises until Harry pulled back and swiped the tears away with the back of his hand.

"I always thought you just chose not to tell anyone. I…thank you. For trying to help me. No one else has ever done something like that for me before."

Poppy stroked his hair back from his face and smiled at the sincere gratitude and, dare she think it, love in his voice and expression. She simply adored this young man. She felt like she had played an important role in his life, and she was so proud of the man he was becoming. It felt like watching a son of her own blossom and grow over the years. Her smile almost slipped when the harsh memory of his cancer slammed into her with the force of a train, leaving nothing but the wreckage of her emotions behind. It felt amazing to know she was just as important to this young man as he was to her, after all, she lived a rather lonely life as well with the lack of any living family, but she could think of nothing more earth-shattering, or heart-breaking or devastating than having him leave her behind, to have his presence missing forevermore. She vowed to keep persisting until the boy who she saw as a son decided to seek every treatment possible to cure him. For she knew that patients undergoing extremely strenuous treatments for terminal illnesses often times agreed for the first round of treatments but lost the will to try something more drastic. Poppy was going to ensure that Harry always had a reason to keep smiling so that he would have the desire and fight necessary to go on living.

She knew then that she could not let him leave without telling him he was loved. She could not bear the thought of him dying not knowing that he would always be in her thoughts, as if it were her own son that had died.

"Harry…what I do for you, I do out of love. Don't ever forget that, my son." The affection and love bled from her voice, and filled the air around Harry, whose face crumpled at her confession, the emotion getting the better of him.

He was her son in every way that mattered.

And nothing would ever change that.

Harry made a last minute decision. Albus had so utterly betrayed him, so why should Harry honor his request to remain mum about their private discussion? So the black-haired youth reached in his pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to Poppy if for no other reason than to spite Albus with-too-many-last-namesDumbledore.

"What is this," asked Poppy intrigued.

"The Headmaster had a third year by the name of Anthony Miller deliver this to me just before I came here. Albus and I didn't part on the best of terms last year…but I never would've guessed he'd blatantly ignore what the Dursleys did to me on a daily basis during the summers. Anyways, he requested that I keep the contents of this letter to myself, but I feel that someone else deserves to know. Since you went to bat for me against the Headmaster who The Healers Oath chose as the ruddy Exception and since you've been a steady and solid presence in my life, you are the person who I choose to share this with." With Harry's permission given, Poppy unrolled the parchment and read the letter. What she had expected it to say she didn't know, but this wasn't it. She was shocked to her very core that the leader of the light would be willing to place so much on the shoulders of a teenager. Why should Harry be forced to learn about the intricate details of the Dark Lord's life?

Poppy handed the letter back to Harry with tears glistening in her eyes. She reached her arms out and hugged the boy she considered her son in all but blood before he left.

That night, as Harry left the hospital wing to find his friends with a bag of potions to relieve his unbearable pain in hand, Poppy locked her office door, cast silencing charms around the room, sat down in her chair, and wept.

She wept in grief, she wept in agony, and she wept with anger that a life like Harry's could so easily be taken from them.

..:..

Time had given Harry a chance to completely absorb the full meaning of Poppy's revelation and he couldn't remember ever being this angry and betrayed. He tried not to show it but Ron and Hermione could tell something was up, they kept asking him probing questions along the lines of whether or not he was okay. Hermione had also taken to touching him frequently in a calming capacity, whether it was holding his hand and stroking the back with her thumb, or running her hands through his hair. Ron was the one to make sure no one did or said anything stupid and steer the conversations in safe directions. It did help him feel slightly better but Harry felt like he just couldn't get past this anger at Dumbledore and the lie he had weaved that he actually loved Harry, that he cared for him.

Ha! What a joke!

There was no way he was catering to the old man's whims anymore, not now that he knew that he had just been manipulating him all along. He wouldn't be open about it though. It would be simply idiotic to walk up to the Headmaster and start ranting and raving at him about how he was left to rot in a personal hell, not if he wanted to keep his home-life a secret anyway. So from now on, he would only acquiesce to the Headmaster's whims if they would prove beneficial to him, or if resisting the request would expose his home life which is the last thing he wanted.

Harry felt like he needed to let out this anger somewhere though, and soon.

Fortunately for Harry the chance came to him as he made his way back to the common room after classes as Michael Corner's voice drifted in his direction, the topic of his conversation being extremely derogatory. Judging by the glances he shot in the direction of Ginny, who was walking around the corner at the end of the corridor with her head down, it was aimed at someone he should know better than to insult. Harry felt the anger in him flare and something snapped. He stalked over to Michael and grabbed the collar of his shirt, whirling him around and causing his friends to back off in alarm at the no doubt rather homicidal expression on his face.

"I have a bone to pick with you Corner."

End Chapter

A/N: (1) If you're not really getting the explanation as to how Harry climbed up the stairs on the walls, here's a video which should give you the right idea as to what he did, except instead of just going up he went forwards too to get up the stairs

Hermione and Ron are just assuming that the headaches are caused by Voldemort, and Harry isn't correcting them because he's not ready to tell them yet, if you're wondering.


	4. Chapter 4: Perception

Diagnosis

A/N: I added in the second scene because of a question a reviewer had about Harry possibly fancying Ginny. Hopefully this clears things up a bit and I also hope that the scene is well written enough to keep the flow of the chapter going. Let me know how you feel about this chapter.

Disclaimer: Much to my regret, JKR only allows me to play in her sandbox, not rule the playground. Lol

Chapter 4: Perception

..:..

"GUYS!"

The exclamation was yelled across the general noise of the common room, causing Draco and Blaise to look up at the voices of the missing half of their group. Pansy was waving her hand frantically in an attempt to indicate that they should come with them, and judging by the hurried and excited looks on both Pansy and Millie's faces, they should hurry up about it.

Draco and Blaise climbed out of their seats and made their way out of the common room into the corridor where the girls had retreated.

"What's up?" The group began moving quickly through the school with the girls taking the lead.

"Potter's going completely mental at Corner in the corridor coming off the entrance hall. Hurry up or we'll miss it!" Draco slowed down at the discovery that it was merely more Potter-watching that had got them all flustered, but quickly sped up with his friends' poking and prodding. Admittedly, it would be interesting to see Harry in a fight with someone other than himself.

It wasn't long until the two Slytherin girls located the commotion, as though they had some kind of Potter-radar. Draco made this opinion known, although all he earned for his witty remark was a roll of the eyes and some blank looks. It seemed they had arrived just in time, though it was clear they had missed Potter's initial rant, as he appeared to have fallen silent.

Corner sneered in a rather pitiful way which just couldn't measure up to Draco's cool, dismissive, superior expression.

"Is that what this is about? I take it you're another one of her boyfriends. Come to defend her honor?" he snorted disbelievingly, "Please, as if you'd actually do anything. This just proves my point that she's a complete slut."

Harry growled and grabbed him by his shirt, shoving him into the wall. Draco raised his eyebrows. Harry didn't normally resort to physical violence with him after all. Instead he would be going for his wand around about now. Interesting…

"If you even dare speak another insult about Ginny, or any of my other friends for that matter, I can assure you I most certainly will do something about it. I promise, you self-absorbed prick, that I'll make sure that you regret pushing me to it more than anything else in the world. Do I make myself clear?" Harry's voice was hard and dangerous.

Before Corner could make a response, however, a voice spoke out from the crowd, catching their attention.

"Harry! Just leave him alone, he's not worth it." Ginny stood at the edge of the surrounding circle of people, holding her hand out towards him in an appeal to come away from the annoyance standing in front of him. She didn't want Harry getting hurt or into trouble. Harry huffed angrily but loosened his grip and backed off, taking Ginny's hand and beginning to walk away from the scene with her…

Until Corner made the mistake of trying to get the last word in.

"Told you she's a man-eater. She's even got Potter whipped, and he's practically immune to everyone else. Of course, she would touch something untouchable." Corner taunted nastily, thinking his joke was funny since the friend he was speaking to gave an unsure smile.

Harry felt Ginny tense up beside him and saw her lower her head out of the corner of his eye; her hair covered her face in embarrassment and misplaced shame.

The Slytherins, meanwhile, had been rather disappointed at the anti-climactic display. That was until Harry squeezed Ginny's hand comfortingly and apologized for what he was about to do. He then turned around and strode purposefully back towards Corner, slinging his bag off of his shoulder and to the side on the floor as he went.

The Slytherins lightened up as the situation got a whole lot more interesting again, though they followed the crowd's actions of taking a step back in anticipation of the trouble Harry was obviously about to cause.

They could all see it coming, though they didn't exactly know what "it" would be. This became clear, however, when Harry did not stop or slow down as he approached Corner. Instead he raised his fist, pulled it back, and let it go with an unexpected amount of speed and strength.

The spectacular specimen of a punch landed right in the center of Corner's face and sent him reeling. He stumbled backwards and fell on his backside as the force of impact traveled through his system.

"Ah!" he shouted, clapping a hand to his nose and screwing up his eyes in pain. The blood could easily be seen from behind his hand as it flowed and dripped freely.

There were a few seconds where everyone just watched Corner clutch at his face in so-called agony, in complete shock at Harry.

"Whoa." breathed Blaise, glancing at Draco and trying to imagine Potter punching his best friend like that. The consequence to this line of thought was surprisingly a quiet snigger to himself, unnoticed by anyone else, as the image of Draco screeching in indignation at Potter ruining his face and putting him in such an undignified position came to him. Well, once he'd finished being a complete crybaby about the no doubt painful experience that getting punched by that powerful fist was. Ohhhh yes, Draco's feathers would be more than ruffled, he would be furious.

"How pathetic." Harry sighed, sounding utterly unimpressed and disappointed. He walked over to stand at the boy's side and crouched down next to him in order to speak to him, a mocking tone spread liberally over his voice.

"Aren't you at least going to defend yourself? I just punched you after all; don't tell me all your confidence has deserted you now? Where's the hard-man gone?"

"You broke my fucking nose!" Corner seemed to try and assess the damage as best he could without a mirror and, right enough, his nose was swelling rapidly as twin bruises seeped their way into existence to color his eyes in black and blue.

Harry just rolled his eyes in a bored fashion and stood back up.

"What the hell did you hit me for?" Corner questioned half in anger and half disbelievingly.

"You're nothing but a bully Corner, that's why. You seem to think it's funny to bring people down but I'm telling you now, it's not. You really need to grow up, and do it fast. I simply can't tolerate a damn bully!" Harry ended it with a snarl.

Harry gave Corner one last disgusted look and once more made to walk off, picking up his bag again when it seemed like Corner would not be getting back up to fight him, only to be halted in the process once more by Corner's voice.

"That's not an excuse, you don't go around punching Malfoy!"

Draco perked up and listened more closely, interested at the mention of his name. Harry laughed and spun back around; unaware that any of the Slytherins were even there and listening eagerly to his reasons.

"Malfoy? Malfoy is hardly a bully. Do you see him walking around calling people names and spreading rumors and generally being quite thoroughly immature? No. He, at least, has a shred of decency and maturity in him, unlike you."

"Maybe, he's alright with most people but he bullies you." Corner claimed accusingly, now sitting up and attempting to stem the flow of blood while giving the odd pathetic whine of pain every now and then. Harry merely snorted in amusement.

"Malfoy doesn't bully me. He's not actively out to bring me down and hurt me in any way he can. That's the rather large difference between you and him."

"That's rubbish and you know it Potter! He insults your family name for heaven's sake, that's disrespecting your dead parents! What other reason could he have for doing that?"

"So what?" an after-shock of surprise rippled through the crowd.

"My…relationship with Malfoy is an extremely complicated and delicate thing Corner, I wouldn't expect you to understand why we act the way we do. Not that I would tell you why things are the way they are. My reasons are private and I have no doubt that Malfoy's motivations are too." Harry flapped his hand dismissively.

"Besides, Malfoy's harmless, Corner. He may be plenty of things, but a bully isn't one of them. He annoys me like no other and he sure as hell has a talent for figuring out what buttons to push and when, but does he make me cry? No. Does he make me feel insecure about myself or the people around me? No. Do I actually believe some of the crap he comes away with? No. All he does is shake things up a little, and more importantly, I can be just as spiteful back at him. Our rivalry is hardly one-sided so how can he be the bully? As for you, you're nothing but a disappointment, a bore, and, as I've already said, a bully." Harry snorted mockingly.

"Both of you may not be used to fighting muggle-style but at least he would have punched me back. Tell me Corner, how does it feel to know that Malfoy has more balls than you do?" Harry raised an eyebrow in derogatory question, though only Corner caught it.

"Shut up! If you don't think Malfoy's a bully then just what the hell is he, huh? Tell me that then, if you think you're so smart."

"That's hardly a challenge Corner. Malfoy is my equal. He is my opponent; my balance; my challenger; my constant even. Take your pick, they all mean the same thing for me in the end."

Corner was left with nothing to say to that as Harry and Ginny left along with Hermione and Ron, who had just arrived with worried and questioning looks in their eyes.

The Slytherins were left standing in the corridor, along with the rest of those who had watched, unsure of what to make of Potter's disclosures.

..:..

Harry sat down in his favorite arm chair beside the fire in the Gryffindor common room with Ginny nearby.

He needed to talk to her about something important to him.

And now was just as good of a time as any he supposed.

"Gin, can I have a word with you?"

"Yeah. You're Ron's best mate, so that makes you a pretty good bloke in my opinion," said Ginny.

"You remember the other day when I comforted you and told you I'd stand up for you with the Michael Corner situation?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"I kinda got rather closer to you while I was comforting you, than a bloke normally would a girl he didn't necessarily fancy."

"Okay, and your point is," asked Ginny honestly concerned for Harry. He seemed rather uptight about something. But what did he have to worry about right now? He had just defeated Michael in a rather spectacular mannor. He should have no worries right about now, so what was troubling him?

"Um, Ginny, I didn't mean to lead you on," mumbled Harry. "You see, it's not that you're not attractive, but I'mgay. That is to say, I like men. It's nothing personal. I just was worried that you'd get the wrong idea when I stood up for you."

Ginny smiled.

"I figured as much," she said. "I've caught you looking at some blokes before and had my suspicions, it's nice to see them confirmed. But I just want you to know, if you ever change your mind, I'd definitely be willing to date you."

Harry laughed.

"I'm not bisexual Gin, I don't bat for both teams."

"What's that supposed to mean, batting for both teams?"

"It's just a Muggle expression that's all."

"Okay, Muggles really do come up with the oddest expressions."

"So is their anyone who you fancy at the moment?"

"Um, maybe," said Harry blushing.

"Who is it?"

"I can't tell you, you'll just laugh at me."

"No I won't, even if I don't agree with you about whether you'd work out with this person as a couple. C'mon, there's a bet going on about your dating life and I want to be on the winning side."

"I might like Malfoy a bit."

"You what," asked Ginny incredulously.

"I fancy Draco alright? He's kind of sexy in a bad boy kind of way, not that he'd ever feel the same way about me."

"Thanks for sticking up for me Harry. Michael was using me and I really needed a friend to support me. I can't thank you enough for your help."

"It's no problem. Just know you can come and talk to me any time you need too, and I won't gossip about your crush."

"It's not a crush, I merely think he's handsome."

"If you say so."

..:..

"Well…I don't know about you, but I have no clue what to make of that…does what he said about you even make sense? I mean, he was speaking about you, right?"

Pansy questioned Draco confusedly as Millie, Blaise, and Nott sat on Nott's bed doing their transfiguration homework. The group of friends were once more gathered in their usual hang out after the drama of Potter and Corner's rather one-sided fight, which also happened to be the boys' dormitory room. The rest of the Slytherins tended to just stick to the common room if they were even in the dungeons, unintentionally giving the group their privacy.

"I'm not sure. Honestly, I can't even remember what he said really. Just that it certainly wasn't the answer I was expecting when Corner started questioning him about me."

"Millie will remember, she remembers practically every word of every conversation. We can ask her to go through what he said a bit at a time and we'll look at it logically to try and figure out what he must have meant. How does that sound?" Pansy suggested.

"Yeah, sure."

"Millie, come here a sec."

Millicent looked up from her homework questions on correct wand movements and made her way over to sit beside Draco and Pansy, both of whom were on Draco's four-poster.

"What's up?"

"Go through what Potter said about Draco will you? We're trying to understand what he was waffling on about."

"Right. He said that you weren't a bully and that, while you might make him really angry, you don't actually upset him, whereas Corner does upset people. Also, he pointed out that you were both as bad as each other in terms of insulting each other and whatnot."

"Okay, it sounds like he's admitting you're actually a good guy except when you start fights with him, but then he's just as bad so it doesn't count or something. But that doesn't fit with Potter's level of maturity though. He just sees us all as evil because we're in Slytherin. I doubt he could admit that we had even a smidgen of good in us. So what he really meant must have been…"

Millicent took over Pansy's train of thought as she struggled to find an answer.

"I think he was trying to save face and make Corner look bad." Draco nodded in understanding while Pansy seemed to need further explanation.

"I see what you mean. He must have been trying to imply that he couldn't care less about me or what I say to him, making him seem all tough after Corner implying he gets bullied by me, and at the same time discrediting Corner and making him look even more like the bad guy of the situation because he genuinely did upset Weasley. But in actual fact he does care about what I say to him, he just doesn't want to admit it and have people know how much of a baby he is."

"Oh, I get it!" Pansy snorted. "Arrogant git. So what about that nonsense with you being his balance and his constant and stuff instead of a bully? I'll bet he was trying to sound all deep and impressive or something. Well, I'm not buying it."

Blaise could hear his friends' conversation and couldn't help but join in. He was the main driving force behind the mission to know every single detail of gossip about Harry Potter, and he wasn't missing out on anything.

"I agree, he was probably making stuff up on the spot to confuse Corner and make himself sound smart. I mean, fair enough saying you're his opponent and his challenger and whatnot, because you are really, but balance? Exactly what are you supposed to be balancing about him anyway? How can you balance a person? I don't think that even makes sense!"

"Agreed."

There was silence for a moment as everyone took a moment to mull over Potter's words and their possible meanings, which were obviously different than what he actually said as far as the Slytherins were concerned. It never occurred to them that maybe everything wasn't so complicated and that Potter had simply meant what he had said.

"Do you think I bully Potter?" Draco asked his friends, feeling uncertain. He had never thought about it before but he supposed how he treated Potter technically could be considered bullying. That had never been his intention though. He would never say such things to someone he didn't think could handle it. But did that matter? Was it still bullying?

"Oh, don't think for a minute that you bully anyone. You're a good person, no matter what anyone else thinks, and Potter can't preach when he treats you just the same. It's not like you have an unfair advantage that you exploit or anything and in general there is a line you don't cross. You wouldn't kick him while he was down or anything." Pansy was quick to reassure Draco.

"I don't know. I've said some really horrible things to him in the past when he's made me so angry that I'd just yell anything I could think of at him without really thinking it over. Like his dead parents, that's going really far actually, isn't it?" Draco bit his lip in guilt.

"How about this for an example then: Cedric Diggory's death. Potter was well and truly down then and it would be easy to bring Diggory up, but you never did. That was the line and you didn't cross it. And it's not like he has any real emotional connection to his parents, not like if they had died recently. Do you understand?"

"I guess…" was Draco's reluctantly accepting answer.

Nott's annoyed, nasal voice spoke out into the room in a tone of voice that made it clear he thought it beneath him to chatter away to friends about such trivial matters.

"As fascinating and entertaining as it is to hear your insightful opinions on Potter, can we please finish this homework? I'd prefer a little help here and I'm not waiting on you lot gossiping all night."

Millicent, who had her back to the boy, rolled her eyes and watched her friends try to suppress their giggles before sighing and going back to her homework, this time accompanied by the rest of her group. Pansy, however, couldn't help but whisper to Draco one last comment before she too went to dig out her schoolbooks.

"You know, Potter may be an over-rated twat, but you have to admit, that was so cool, don't you think? Did you see that punch?"

..:..

Harry couldn't help but scowl at the essay he had gotten back from Snape just twenty-five minutes earlier. He sat on his stool in potions waiting for the moment when he was supposed to get up and stir his potion and he was feeling quite annoyed and stressed for a number of reasons.

Firstly, he hadn't exactly been feeling great this morning when he woke up with his head throbbing painfully in a quiet, needling kind of way. Unfortunately he was feeling no better now. He had no doubt in his mind that his headache could be a million times worse if it weren't for the potions Poppy had given him to take every morning and night, but that didn't change the fact that it was still definitely there.

Secondly, the fumes from the potions were absolutely sickening to him, and this, combined with the stifling heat from the flames under each potion, left him feeling like there was a tiny man rocking an equally tiny boat rather violently in his stomach in an attempt to get him to be sick.

Lastly, on top of feeling sick, he had only just scraped a pass by the skin of his teeth on this latest potions essay, and Snape had taken the opportunity to mock him in front of the entire class for the utter nonsense he had apparently written when he handed it back.

So Harry sat there feeling hot, flushed, ill, frustrated, and annoyed at, not only his lack of potions skills, but at Snape's digs at him for a complete lack of intelligence too.

Then Snape came along and stopped at Harry's cauldron.

He sneered in disgust at Harry's attempt at the Elixir of Euphoria and immediately set about letting Harry know exactly how he thought Harry had done.

"Potter, quite frankly it astounds me just how spectacularly you can screw everything potions related up. If I didn't know any better I could swear you did it on purpose. Did you even use a formula to calculate how much rose water you needed or did you just guess? Don't you understand anything I have tried to teach to that simple mind of yours –?"

"No." Harry cut in, his arms folded and a scowl on his face. He was not in the mood to sit here quietly as Snape humiliated him. Snape blinked at Harry in shock and the rest of the class looked up from their cauldrons and notes in surprise.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Clearly I don't understand anything you've taught me. I suppose it would be too much to ask of you to actually try and explain it to me in more detail, or in a different way, instead of just commenting on it and watching as I continue to learn absolutely nothing from you though, wouldn't it." Harry glowered up at Snape, waiting on the man to start shouting at him for daring to imply he wasn't teaching him properly and yelling that it was his own fault he couldn't seem to get a good grip of potions theory.

But the tirade never came. Instead Snape considered him stoically until Harry unfolded his arms and glared half-heartedly at the wall beside him, feeling uncomfortable at the intensity of Snape's eyes boring into his.

"Stay at the end of the class Mr. Potter, and clear your things away, this potion is useless."

Snape strode to the front of the classroom to once more begin doing the rounds of the students' cauldrons, and Harry began clearing away his potions supplies, feeling confused. The rest of the people in the room would occasionally glance his way and at Snape as they continued their own potions, curious as to what exactly had just transpired to make Snape back off of Harry. Surely it couldn't be just because Harry had spoken back to him?

It wasn't long before the classroom was empty and Harry was left sitting at his desk, his head resting on his folded arms. The fumes had more or less dissipated and the fires no longer burned, allowing Harry's stomach to settle somewhat as he cooled down and breathed fresher air. This left only the lingering pain of his headache to deal with in the background as he prepared himself for whatever it was Snape might do to him.

"Mr. Potter."

Harry raised his head from his arms and looked at Snape to acknowledge the request for his attention.

"Are you free for remedial potions lessons on a Wednesday after dinner?"

Harry stared at the man, trying to figure out if he was imagining things.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I asked you when you were free for remedial potions lessons. Do you not wish to take them?"

"No! …Actually…I'd love to take them." Snape merely blinked at Harry, so he spoke up once more.

"Well, I'd do just about anything to make potions easier at this point I guess. Honestly I think I've tried everything else, but…" Snape fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"Just say it Mr. Potter." Harry only hesitated briefly before deciding not to play dumb.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand why you're offering them. I expected you to be angry at me for what I said."

"I see. There is no reason I should get angry at one of my students for telling me they do not understand and they want me to help them. Perhaps you could have said it with a little more respect but I understand why you didn't and will not punish you for it. This time."

There was a moment of silence as Harry took this in.

"If you don't mind helping me then why did you never do it before?"

"How can I help someone who does not ask for it, Potter? Not once have you indicated that you had any interest whatsoever in improving your potions skills. I don't have time for people who will do nothing but waste it. If you needed help then you should have come to me and asked, you can't expect me to be a mind reader. If you want to try and improve your grade in potions and promise to take it seriously then I have no problem spending an hour a week with you going over whatever it is that you do not understand."

"Oh. While I see your point, and I would like to take up remedial potions, I have to ask, how on earth could you expect me to ask you for help when all you do is constantly insult me and put me down? You do realize that, that attitude to your students is hardly going to motivate them into asking you when they don't understand something, right?"

"If someone is truly determined to do well in my subject then they will ask me in spite of being intimidated. As I have already said, I have no time for people who could not care less about whether or not they understand potions. I would simply be wasting my time as anything I say would go in one ear and out the other, which means that the students who genuinely want to do well receive less of my time."

"Well how did you know that I cared that I was doing badly and wanted to try and understand? How did you know I wasn't just uninterested like before?"

"The fact that you finally said something about how I have made no effort to go out of my way to help you understand. If you didn't care whether or not I helped then you wouldn't have mentioned it as something that annoyed you. Now, that is enough interrogation I believe, I have work to do. I will make the necessary arrangements and inform you when your remedial lessons will begin. Good day."

Snape began rearranging papers on his desk until he found a pile of unmarked essays and Harry nodded and said goodbye as he left the classroom, feeling out of sorts at the realization that Snape did actually seem to care about his students doing well on some level. He wasn't sure what he thought of him leaving the people who didn't care to their own devices, in fact, he thought that maybe Snape should at least try to motivate them and help them, but what he had said about it just being a waste of time did make sense in a way at least. If it wasn't for the fact that the man disliked Harry for something as insignificant as his parentage he might actually be an alright bloke. Maybe.

Much to Harry's dismay, when he finally left the dungeons corridors with a sense of great accomplishment at the forefront of his mind, he realized that not only had his rather courageous request to ask for potions help taken up all of his fifteen minute break, but he was going to be late for Charms if he didn't book it upstairs. And the last thing he wanted to do at this moment was run helter-skelter through the corridors just to avoid getting a dressing down from Professor Flitwick for his tardiness, because he still felt rather nauseous, though his headache had abated somewhat which was a complete 360 degree turnaround from how he felt in potions class, thanks to the potions that Poppy had given him. Harry decided to risk Professor Flitwick's wrath rather than the alternative, so he walked at a fast pace, though he flat out refused to run like Godric himself was after him. He saw no need in risking chucking up his meager breakfast.

Five minutes later, Harry quietly pushed open the door to Professor Flitwick's classroom and was mortified to see the whole Gryffindor/Slytherin class gazing back at him. He had really tried his best to avoid making a spectacle of himself, after what happened in potions earlier. But it was to no avail. He blushed red as he just knew that the rest of the school would have heard about how he had all but insisted that Severus Snape change his teaching style to suit the student's individual needs. But maybe everyone in the sixth year class was in too much shock at Harry's gall to start spreading the story around just yet.

Harry glanced around the room in search of an empty seat. Luckily for the raven-haired boy, Hermione had been kind enough to save him a seat beside her. Harry sat down to Hermione's right as Professor Flitwick read off the last name on the register, Blaise Zabini. After the Italian boy raised his hand in affirmation that he was in the class, Professor Flitwick cleared his throat and said in his squeaky voice, "Mr. Potter, what was the cause of your uncharacteristic tardiness this morning? Do I need to cast a monitoring charm on you so that I can make sure that this behavior of tardiness doesn't become a pattern in my classroom?"

Harry's face turned scarlet at Flitwick's implication that he was incapable of time management. "No Sir. It won't happen again. I wasn't dilly-dallying around, you can ask Professor Snape if you need too; I stayed after the bell in the potions lab to have a private discussion with him." Some of the more malicious Slytherins chuckled at Harry's embarrassment.

"I'll do just that," replied Flitwick. Harry was glad that the Professor was willing to trust his word for the time being and that he didn't take points. However, the Gryffindor was glad that he hadn't been telling a lie because he was certain that the Professor would indeed check with Professor Snape to ensure that he wasn't being played by one of his favorite students.

With that, the diminutive Professor stood atop his pile of cushions to better see the students he was addressing as he began the lecture. "Today we will be learning a rather basic yet useful water Charm. The incantation that I wish you to use is "aguamenti". This Charm conjures a fountain or jet of clear water from the caster's wand. This Charm can be used either to provide fresh drinking water, or can be used to put out a raging inferno. I don't need to tell you lot just how handy this Charm might be to you if any of you are unfortunate enough this term to have the need to put out a fire that was started by a foe. This is not the time for me to preach to you about how this Charm can save your lives when you're in the middle of a duel with a death eater; I expect you to be mature enough to pay attention and master this Charm in this lesson. I'm sure that all of you remember that we've begun having you sixth years use nonverbal magic, the same standard is expected of you with this charm. No talking will be permitted. Now partner up and begin." Professor Flitwick's unusually serious tone spurred the class into immediate action. For the first time in Professor Flitwick's tenure as a Hogwarts Professor, his class calmed down and got to work without the usual shenanigans. Apparently his lecture had brought home to the Slytherins and Gryffindors alike, just how important the spells, jinxes, hexes, Charms, and transfiguration spells could aid them in the upcoming conflict that many of them would be drug into kicking and screaming. But at least most of the staff were doing their best to prepare their students, even if it meant pointing out the different uses of the spells etc, that they were learning and destroying part of their innocence as they were upfront with the older years in the various manners that say the incendio Charm could be used for by enemies. They needed to be prepared for what could happen regardless what the Ministry and the new DADA Professor said.

..:..

Harry sat on a four-poster bed in the center of a room with green colored walls and smiled as his eyes lit upon the fireplace on the wall to his right. The Gryffindor proclaimed golden boy, waited in anticipation for the teen who had arranged to meet him here to arrive.

When the door to the unrecognizable location opened, a beatific grin crossed Harry's face as he looked the teen up and down in a highly sensual way. The fair-skinned teen was smoking hot, and somewhere in Harry's brain he recognized the teen from somewhere else, though the boy's true identity eluded him.

"Hey," said the mystery boy kindly. "I see you came dressed for the occasion." The teen's face broke out in a wide grin.

"Uh huh."

Harry's head was cocked to one side as he inquired, "What's that supposed to mean? If you're implying what I think you are, then it looks like you're dressed appropriately too." Harry looked at the hunk before him like he was ready to undress him with his eyes alone right here and now.

"Of course, I'd be a fool if I hadn't," came the boy's cocky reply.

The two teens continued bantering back-and-forth in the same vein for several more moments. As their conversation grew gradually more hot and heavy, they began to shed their clothes. First a silken pajama shirt fell to the floor from the unidentified blond. Then Harry's pajama shirt (which the lad had hardly worn since he slept in the nude most of the time) joined the woven silken shirt on the floor.

Leaning forward, Harry pressed his lips to the other bloke's closed ones. When he failed to gain entrance to the other bloke's mouth, Harry ran his tongue lightly across the other man's lips trying to tease him in the hopes that this would entice the sex god in front of him to deepen the kiss. He wrapped his arms around the slightly muscular body of the person before him, pressing his lips against his more insistently, kneading them with his own, asking silently for permission to deepen the kiss, and his patience was rewarded when he gained entrance to the sweet warm cavern inside. Harry slowly led the sexy boy before him closer and closer to the bed as their snog fest halted momentarily.

Harry gently pushed the beauty in front of him onto the bed and strattled him leaning forward to continue where they had left off before. Harry plunged his tongue into the warm cavern of the other boy's mouth and proceeded to map out every inch of his mouth that tasted faintly of berries. Harry loved berries which made the experience even more erotic.

When they next came up for air, Harry reluctantly moved his mouth from his and instead latched onto his neck. He wanted to enjoy this to the fullest extent, savoring every inch of this boy's exquisite tasting skin. In between nips and licks at the boy's lovely skin, Harry asked, "How far do you want to take this?"

The body beneath him writhed in pleasure which was answer enough.

Harry trailed his way down to the red, hard nipples with hot openmouthed kisses. He took one round bud into his mouth tweaking the other until it hurt slightly to make the experience as pleasurable as possible for the sex-god beneath him. Shouts of "Ah! Fuck!" were the only thing that he could say at the moment. Clearly Harry had the magic touch. Harry's ministrations grew faster and faster at the boy's moans. Harry smiled as he felt the bulge in the boy's silken pajama pants harden. He moved up to his mouth once more.

Before either of them could cool off enough to stop things, Harry started grinding against him. At first, Harry tried to take control of the situation and not allow him to grind his hips upwards, but this quickly became boring so he removed the hands from the boy which had been preventing him from thrusting upwards only moments before. Even with their bottoms on, enough friction was created that the hotty beneath Harry shouted, "Please don't stop!" And Harry acquiesced to the demand more than willingly. Harry's breaths came increasingly faster as their speed increased, then he shuddered and cried out as his orgasm hit with a vengeance, he collapsed on top of the other boy.

Not wanting to leave the other boy before he reached his climax, Harry sucked on the other man's tongue which he had heard was an instant turn-on for men and fisted his hard length through his silken pants, squeezing with some pressure for added affect. Then Harry rubbed his sensitive head with one hand and brought his other hand down to join the first. He proceeded to fist him with one hand pumping furiously, while rubbing small tight circles around the head. Harry grinned as the bloke that was now laying beside him started breathing quicker in pleasure. In no time at all, the mystery guy's pants became wet with a hot pearly liquid.

Harry shot up in bed and flushed in embarrassment as he felt the evidence of his dream cooling on his stomach. Holley mother of Merlin! He had never been so glad in his life that he slept in the buff before. Harry groped blindly for his wand to scourgify himself. It was pathetic that a mere dream could make the savior of the wizarding world realize at last that he was missing something in his life. Yee gods! Their was the real possibility that he could die in a few years and he didn't want to miss a thing, including having a significant other to come to bed with every night. He had made up his mind. He was going to go for it, and couldn't care less if the wizarding world freaked when they finally realized that the Chosen One was gay. He had never been more greatful for a trustworthy friend like Ginny. He knew that she would never tell anyone about his crush on Malfoy. If nothing more, when Harry Potter 'came out', the spectacle would be a circus for sure, hence he would have a source of amusement out of it all. Because the day that Rita passed up such a sensational scoop on the boy-who-lived…Harry would bugger Riddle. It was time he started living his life. But who had the boy been in his dream? Harry had a funny feeling that he knew him, but from where?

..:..

Harry concentrated on staying balanced as he stood on his broom like it was a tight rope with his arms out to the sides, at an altitude way above that of the rest of the Quidditch team who were practicing at a more normal height. He had been more than eager to get to practice this week, what with various issues orbiting around his head, so that he could relax in the fresh air flowing against his skin and mull over some things.

Dumbledore, Snape, and the remedial potions lessons for example. The cancer, however, did not even factor in his contemplations this time, pushed out by the food for thought he had been given over the past week or two about his perceptions of the people around him.

He had considered what to do about Dumbledore and had come to the conclusion that there was nothing he could really do at this moment in time, aside from acting like he was still ignorant and naively loyal. If he started expressing the loss of trust and loyalty to Dumbledore, what would he gain from it except possible interference and hassle in his life as Dumbledore tried to win him back and prevent him from doing anything the old man might not like? It was highly likely that he would. After all, Harry wasn't stupid and he knew that Dumbledore would not want the public thinking he didn't have Harry's support, and he wouldn't like the idea of Harry refusing to do what he was told anymore either.

It would be easier, if it came down to it, to act against Dumbledore's wishes if the man wasn't watching him closely and he wasn't expecting it. Harry would be far more likely to get away with it. What "it" might be Harry was unsure of, but you never know what the future might bring, and Harry doubted that Dumbledore's ideas of what Harry's future would involve and his own ideas of what his future would involve were similar in any way. Especially considering the man didn't know of his cancer, and there was no way in hell that Harry was going to tell him about it either. He couldn't care less what the man's plans for him would be.

The other major reason for his reluctance to call Dumbledore on his lack of action at the knowledge of Harry's abuse was the fact that doing so would involve bringing said abuse up. As far as Harry was concerned, it would be better if no one ever found out what went on at home, and the truth would have to come out if he let his disdain for the leader of the light be known. He couldn't let that happen. Even if doing so meant that he'd have to play along with the Headmaster's plans for the time being and attend the stupid lessons that he was sure would be of little help. For if said lessons were about magical skills and dueling, why all the secrecy? Harry didn't see what Professor Dumbledore could have left to tell him about Tom Riddle. Because wasn't the prophecy the last piece of news that the Headmaster had left to tell him? Their conversation after the events at the Ministry last term seemed to indicate that. Harry would just have to wait and see; whilst playing the role of Dumbledore's loyal naive, little golden boy to the hilt.

Harry took a deep breath of the cool, sharp air and decided he would finish practicing his balance for a few more minutes before sitting back down on his broom to have a few more goes at catching the snitch.

In the meantime he stared up at the clouds and tried to assign each cluster a name based on its shape. The best one he could see at the moment was the unicorn-shaped cloud; however a cauldron-shaped cloud brought his mind once more back to the subject of Snape.

He had made another decision earlier to stick to his previous opinion of the man, one that he had formed in the hospital wing when he spoke to Poppy of the professor's achievement in medical potions, except it was slightly modified. Until the potions lesson resulting in the offer of remedial potions, Harry had a grudging respect for the man and his highly intelligent mind and potions talent, but otherwise disliked him for his seemingly meritless personality. His current opinion would remain more or less the same, though he would keep an open mind and look out for signs of any good qualities hiding under the man's hard exterior. He thought he had seen a hint of that in his clear dedication to the students he found worthwhile.

Harry decided that he had done enough balance practice for today. He didn't actually need it very much as he had managed to get the act of keeping his broom stable as he stood on it, without falling off, down to an art long ago. It was the only reason he was even doing something so dangerous so high up in fact, but he liked to make sure he was keeping on top of things and he loved to be up in the air like this.

Harry looked back down at his broom, ignoring the tiny people on the pitch below him as the Gryffindor team practiced, and went to bend down to once more straddle his broom.

However, as he made this slightly forward and downward movement, something in his perception went funny. It was like everything tilted or shifted and his hands, stretched out to grab his broom, missed their target as a result. Harry felt his stomach lurch as he fell forward, his legs leaving his broom behind as they inevitably followed the rest of his body. He then felt the horrible swooping sensation in his stomach that accompanied his free fall from the spectacular height he had been hovering at, panicking as he went down and yelling out in alarm.

Meanwhile on the ground, the rest of the Quidditch team—plus some other Gryffindors messing about on their brooms—glanced up and felt their hearts jump into their throats and the blood drain from their faces. The cause of their reaction was, of course, the sight of Harry Potter making quick progress through unimposing air towards the unforgiving grassy floor of the Quidditch pitch.

Dean Thomas was the first to react, with Ron following a close second, leaving the others to stay put, knowing that any more than two people trying to help would only mean they would get in the way instead of actually managing to save Harry. Hermione, who had been chatting to Lavender and Parvati, sprung from her seat at the bottom row of the Quidditch stands and hung over the railing, feeling a surge of adrenaline dash through her system in sheer terror.

Both Dean and Ron flew up towards Harry, and then followed him down when they reached him by keeping their brooms at the speed Harry fell. Dean grabbed Harry's forearms, Ron grabbed his ankles, and as one the pair of boys reversed their broom direction and flew up with everything they had in an effort to counteract the momentum Harry had accumulated as he fell.

They were slowing down but they were still heading towards the land at a worrying rate, and then there was a loud pop as one of Harry's shoulders dislocated at the strain and pressure on his body, causing him to scream out loudly in pain. Dean almost dropped Harry's arms in shock, fright, and guilt that he had hurt Harry, but Ron shouted at him not to let go and Dean's grip tightened around Harry's wrists once more, where his hands had slipped to in the brief moment he had lost it. He knew it would be extremely painful for Harry but it was the lesser of two evils.

"Hermione!" Ron yelled at the realization that they weren't going to slow down enough in time. Hermione whipped out her wand in the blink of an eye and positively flung her arm out in the direction of the ground underneath the trio of falling flyers.

"PENICULUS!" she screamed desperately. It wasn't that she wasn't sure that she could cast this spell correctly silently, but she was unable to control her instincts in the face of fear for her friend.

The ground seemed to warp slightly for a second before once more looking completely normal, however it became clear that this was not the case when Harry, Dean, and Ron barreled into it at a damaging speed, only to disappear into the ground in a hollow. It had appeared by the compression of the ground on impact in a manner similar to a sponge, and halted their fall without the damage of hitting a hard surface.

When it seemed like the boys were safe from further damage Hermione raced her way down the stairs of the Quidditch stands and ran over, her heart hammering away in her chest and her breathing rate much quicker than normal in her panic.

All three boys lay panting at the severe scare but were quickly moving once more.

"Harry! Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere else? C'mon mate, speak to me here." Ron questioned frantically, his hand swiping Harry's hair out of his face so he could get a good look at him.

"Shoulder." Harry managed to grind out from behind gritted teeth as his shoulder overwhelmed his brain with millions of messages screaming "PAIN!".

"What's wrong with it?" Hermione's breathless question came as she reached them.

"I think I dislocated it or something!" Dean told her in a slightly hysterical state from the combination of shock, fear, adrenaline, worry, and guilt.

"Right. Okay. Right." Hermione dithered for a few seconds before she managed to pull herself together enough to take action. Dean and Ron disentangled themselves from their brooms as Harry lay on the ground, pale and shocked looking, so that they could help.

Hermione stepped forward and knelt down next to Harry. She then took off her cloak and laid it flat on the ground beside her so that she could cut a large triangle out of the fabric by tracing the tip of her wand over an imaginary outline of the shape.

"Harry, I need you to sit up. Guys, help him please, and be careful with him. Can someone go inform Madame Pomfrey too?" Hermione had calmed down enough to think clearly and had immediately set about making a sling for Harry's arm and thinking about getting him to Madame Pomfrey.

"Parvati's already gone to tell her."

"Thanks Lavender."

"Ah!" Harry yelled out as his shoulder was jostled in the process of sitting him up.

"Oops, sorry Harry!"

"S'fine Ron."

Hermione finished cutting out her makeshift sling and made a start to getting Harry's arm into it, predicting correctly that Harry would strongly protest to the movement of his arm.

"I know it hurts but it's just so we can get it in a sling Harry, then we can get up to the hospital wing." she coaxed until Harry finally let her move his arm into her sling, though she felt guilty when she could see the pain he was in at having to do so. In all honesty she hadn't actually expected that he would let anyone move his arm until Poppy Pomfrey intervened.

"Okay, is everyone definitely okay?" she checked once more as both she and Harry stood up in order to walk to the infirmary.

"We're fine 'Mione. What the hell happened up there anyway Harry? Did someone shoot a spell at you? Were you trying out a new move or something?" Ron both assured Hermione that there were no further injuries and immediately set about finding out just how exactly their current situation had come about while the group of friends made their way into the castle. Over-all, everyone's reactions had been fairly swift and the time taken to sort everything out and have Harry on his way to the infirmary was minimal.

"I don't really know what happened, my eyes just went sort of funny." Harry told Ron confusedly, using his good arm to cradle his bad one. Hermione frowned with a mixture of puzzlement and concern.

"What do you mean? Did you black out?"

"No, it was more like double vision or dizziness. Like, I looked at my broom handle to grab hold of it but when I reached out it turned out that the handle was further left than I thought I'd seen and I actually ended up grabbing at thin air. I couldn't fix my mistake in time to avoid falling." Ron and Hermione exchanged worried looks, though neither could give an immediate answer to what it could be that went wrong.

When the group got into the school only Ron, Hermione, and Harry continued on to see Pomfrey while everyone else said they hoped that Harry's shoulder was fixed up easily and that they'd see him soon. This left Hermione able to voice her thoughts to Ron, who was still confusedly trying to figure out what could have gone wrong with Harry, and Harry, who was rather unconcerned with the issue considering his priority right now was getting his shoulder healed. He couldn't really notice much else with the way the pain demanded his attention.

"Have you been eating properly Harry? And sleeping? Maybe you were dehydrated or exhausted and almost fainted as a result?"

"I don't think so, I felt fine beforehand. And besides, it's not like I faint all the time or something."

"You promise that you've definitely been taking care of yourself Harry? Because I'll know if you're lying, make no mistake." Hermione threatened earnestly.

"'Mione! Honestly, I was fine! I promise!"

"Good…then, you don't think…?" Hermione trailed off in slight doubt at her idea.

"Think what?" Ron prompted at her apparent reluctance to continue her sentence.

"Do you think it could have been Voldemort again? Maybe he could tell you were practicing Quidditch and deliberately tampered with your perception in the hopes you would fall off your broom?" Hermione asked Harry gravely.

"Voldemort? I hadn't thought of that. You think he could?" Harry seemed mildly surprised at Hermione's theory.

"I don't know but…well, we know he likes to mess with your head Harry, so why not mess with the messages going from your eyes to your brain on what you're seeing? Surely it's not that big a leap from what he already does?" There was silence as Ron and Hermione considered this and worried about just how much Voldemort seemed to be able to affect their friend. At this rate Harry would never have a moment's peace, from the torment or the danger. They would just have to hope that they were wrong and that Voldemort's influence didn't escalate any more, though right now it was the only explanation they could think of for what Harry had described, if he was telling the truth.

As the trio finally made it to the infirmary and a concernedly waiting Madame Pomfrey, Hermione shoved her thoughts out of her head for the present moment. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about such things, but if they got worse she would have to do something. Maybe Dumbledore would know what was going on, and if he did he might also have a way of solving this problem.

"Thank you for bringing him here, I can take over for now if the two of you would like to wait for him." Poppy immediately took charge upon Harry's arrival and sat him down on a bed half way down the wing, closest to the potions cabinet, while Ron and Hermione sat down in the waiting area next to the entrance. It was less an "area" and more like a small gathering of chairs for the purpose of providing people with somewhere to sit out of the way of the healing process.

"What happened then Harry?"

"My eyesight went funny when I was trying to sit back down on my broom and I fell off. Ron and Dean caught me but I dislocated my shoulder from Dean pulling on my arm." Poppy's gaze became sharp instantly.

"Your eyesight? You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"You don't think it could have been exhaustion, heat or lack of energy from food?"

"I'm positive! Honestly, with the way you and Hermione question me you'd think I was an anorexic insomniac or something!"

Poppy simply quirked one edge of her mouth upwards in amusement.

"Right, well let's see to this shoulder then."

Poppy carefully took Harry's arm out of the sling, briefly expressing her approval of whoever had put their knowledge of basic muggle first aid to use. Apparently most magical folk, including highly respected healers and healing researchers, didn't have this knowledge themselves. In fact, you'd be hard pressed to find anyone who knew what the recovery position was, let alone when, how or why to use it on someone because they didn't believe it was necessary knowledge when they had magic.

The healing of Harry's shoulder took an interesting combination of spell and potion. The first thing Poppy did was use a spell which caused an effect similar to what you would see if someone had just switched on a lamp inside a thin tent while you were standing on the outside, watching the shadow of the person moving inside against the lit walls of the tent. Harry's shoulder also seemed to light up from inside, and the shadows of the separated joint could be seen against the illuminated skin.

Once Poppy could clearly make out the position of each part of the relevant bones she would be working with, she fetched two thick potions that had been poured into small tubs to harden into two differently colored creams. One was pure black, the other pure white, but both had what looked like tiny streams of blue magic or electricity no wider than a strand of hair striking its way throughout regularly.

Poppy applied one cream to the edge of Harry's misshapen shoulder over the shadow created by the end of the arm bone, which was currently separated from the rest of his skeleton. The other cream was applied to the corresponding half of the damaged joint, leaving a space between each of the colored creams where the gap was from the dislocation.

Once the creams had been absorbed by Harry's skin all it took from Poppy was some guidance by her gentle hands as the two parts of Harry's shoulder joint seemed to attract back together. It was as though they had been magnetized.

"All right Harry, try some of the movements I'm making with my arm for me, it might twinge a little, which is okay, but there should be no particularly pressing pain as there was an added pain-relief component in those creams. If anything doesn't feel right in any way I need you to tell me. Okay?"

After a nod from Harry and some rather ridiculous arm-waving, Harry's shoulder was proclaimed healed.

"Alright Harry, stay there for a second while I tell your friends they'll need to go back to their common rooms now."

"Can't I leave with them? My shoulder feels fine now; I thought you said it was alright?"

"Your shoulder is better now but once the pain-killer wears off it'll start to hurt more. Besides, I need to do some more tests I think. I'll be back in just a second." Poppy bustled over to Ron and Hermione and after a short conversation Harry's friends left looking relieved if not slightly disappointed that they had to leave Harry behind.

"I take it I'm staying here tonight then?" Harry asked as his eyes followed his healer's progress back to his bedside, though it sounded less like a question and more like a statement.

"I'm afraid so Harry." Poppy sounded apologetic but Harry just smiled when he heard the sympathetic tone to her voice.

"Its fine, I don't really mind. I kind of like it here anyway I suppose. It's more peaceful than the dorm that's for sure, and I can take as long as I want in the shower in the morning since there's no one else waiting to get in before breakfast starts."

"Glad to hear it." Poppy smiled back, pleased to know Harry didn't hate staying in the hospital wing with her. Most of the students couldn't stand it and so were constantly trying to escape before they were fully healed as a result.

"So, what kind of tests are you talking about?"

"Well, I have a fair idea of what happened to your eyes but I want to make absolutely sure that it's a possibility I should consider."

"What do you think happened?" Harry's head tilted very slightly to the side, as it often did when he was thinking about something he was rather curious about.

"Let's not get into that just now, it might not even be true. We'll just see what these tests show first and then we can go from there." Harry sighed in a way that spoke of long suffering.

"Fine, but I'm telling you, I'm perfectly, totally, completely, well-and-truly fine. Seriously."

The healer did not answer Harry but instead pulled out her wand and tapped Harry lightly on the head with it, incanting "Impleomador". She then slashed it through the air from right to left unexpectedly, causing Harry to jump a little in surprise. This alarm was quickly forgotten however when the tip of Poppy's wand left a trail of tiny, floating sparks in its wake. The majority of the sparks were blue but there were other, less common colors amongst them, sparkling away like pieces of glitter. When Poppy seemed happy enough with her examination she lowered her wand and the beautiful magic faded.

"Wow. What does that do?"

"It's a way of finding out how hydrated you are, or dehydrated as the case may be." Poppy was pulling out a tiny bottle containing no more than a mouthful of potion from the potions cabinet as she spoke.

"This is a measure of fatigue levels. I'm going to get you to take it in a moment and depending on how well rested you are, it will take you between 1 and 10 seconds for you to fall asleep. You will only sleep for roughly 3 seconds but I can get an exhaustion level for you on a scale of 1 to 10. It takes less time for the potion to take effect the more tired you are, so 1 second would mean you are completely exhausted, 10 would mean you are 100% fully rested. Do you understand?"

At Harry's nod of confirmation Poppy handed over the potion and motioned for Harry to lie down on the bed.

"How do people come up with this stuff? Honestly, I can't understand anything in potions. I think it'd be a pretty cool career though, making up lots of weird and wonderful things. Interesting anyway, or, at least I assume it would be if I could understand it. It must be if they come up with stuff like this." Harry commented, eyeing the potion through the glass bottle as though if he stared long enough it would do something interesting. He pulled the cork out of the top of the bottle finally and tipped it into his mouth. He shuddered at the raw-egg texture dripping like gloop or slime down his throat and waited to fall asleep.

When Harry woke up 11 seconds later Poppy sighed sadly and sat on the bed next to Harry. She had hoped she was wrong but it would seem she was destined to be disappointed and, for once, thoroughly disheartened by her accuracy. Without beating around the bush Poppy immediately begun explaining to Harry what she believed had caused the alteration in his perception and resulting fall from his broom.

"Harry, I'm afraid I think it's highly probable that your brain tumor was what was affecting your vision. I know it sounds bad but I had hoped on some level that you had simply fainted through a combination of lack of sleep and lack of nutrients from food but the tests showed that you're fairly well rested and generally healthy. It's time that we had that talk. We'll look at things from both sides of the fence even though it'll be more depressing to do it that way, because you need to decide here and now what you're going to do It's time to roll the dice. The question is are you really and truly ready to do it? This'll more than likely be the hardest decision you'll ever have to make, and I'm really sorry that your parents aren't here to stand beside you regardless which option you choos. Though, don't feel alone, because I'll be beside you every step of the way." Poppy reached out and took her most cooperative patient's hand in support for the intense conversation that they were about to have.

"I hadn't expected more symptoms other than your headaches just yet, not with the potions you've been taking anyway. So I'm worried about whether or not the time-scale I estimated for you was correct or not."

"Either way, it was about time I spoke to you more seriously about the symptoms you are likely to experience, especially considering some are apparently already showing up. Speaking of which…I'm really sorry but…I think it's best you quit your flying, for Quidditch or for any other reason. There's just no way we can guarantee you would be safe if something similar to what happened today were to happen again. Do you understand?"

..:..

A/N: Let me know what you thought of the chapter. Did you think that the Professors ought to be educating the students of the more sinister uses for spells so that they can be prepared? And who is the mystery guy? This was my first smut scene. Let me know how I did so I can decide if I need to change or alter the scenes in any way when I write them in the future. I haven't came across many fics where Harry's the top so I decided to write one.

Some of you may be wondering why Poppy didn't use nonverbal magic to cast the spell in this chapter if it plays a part in this AU, the answer is, ordinary witches and wizards usually once they're trained in the use of silent magic, don't necessarily use nonverbal magic in their everyday lives because it's very difficult. However in battle situations or friendly duels, it's always used. In all of Harry's classes baring DADA right now, it's used constantly because the staff want to stress the necessity of learning nonverbal magic. The more you use it, the better you'll get at using it's the general theory that I'm using for the fic.


	5. Chapter 5: Victim or Victor

Diagnosis

Disclaimer: Much to my regret, I don't own the rights to the Harry Potter universe.

Chapter 5: Victim or Victor

..:..

Harry took a few seconds to take in Poppy's words. The issue of how much time he had left and the issue of a complete flying ban were in combat for his initial attention but in the end it was his life that won the battle, as it should have.

"Right…what do you mean by timescale? Are you saying I might not even have two years left now?"

"Well, I'm not going to give you any definite answers because there's always the possibility that I'm wrong. And of course, if you seek treatment, all of the variables change. If you decide on palliative care only then I think that the best course of action is to keep you on your potions for now and see if any more symptoms, other than sore heads, appear a second time. If anything does I'll re-do all of the tests we did in the beginning to get an idea of how far advanced your cancer truly is and see what we come up with. However, I do recommend that we contact a certain world-renound magical oncologist as we agreed we'd take into consideration when the time came. If ever there was an appropriate time for such drastic measures to be undertaken as muggle radiation, this would be it. You asked me to be completely honest with you about matters concerning your survival rate and I'm doing as you requested of me. You're the best seeker Hogwarts has seen since Charlie Weasley, and when Gryffindor's star seeker starts seeing 'double' as you put it, it's high time that something be done. The longer we wait, the worse your chances for survival become. Even as little as a week could make a difference of whether you live or die. All I can do is perform tests to determine how advanced the cancer is once the symptoms start worsening, and if we take that route, you'll be terminal, unless of course, you trust my judgment in choosing the best potions master to brew your potions and the healer best equipped to treat you, then you will have a fighting chance, so I'll leave the decision up to you; the quaffel is in your court now." Poppy had done her duty as a Medi-witch and informed her patient of his options, now all she could do is wait and hope that he chose to fight this cancer like Voldemort himself was after him. Poppy barely held in a chuckle at that, because Voldemort really was after him. The irony of her thoughts had amused her at a highly inconvenient time.

Harry just nodded half-heartedly, his eyes unfocused as he tried to make sense of these most recent developments.

"Okay, so…what kind of stuff should I look out for and if I seek treatment, are the symptoms the same?"

"As for your second question, I'm not sure, though I suspect that more symptoms are to be expected with the treatment than without, but without it, you probably won't live to see your graduation. However, there are many possible symptoms depending on where exactly in the brain a tumor is. I have an information leaflet that lists them for you."

Poppy climbed out of her seat and walked across to the small desk she had where she pulled a folded piece of paper from the top drawer. She closed the drawer and walked back over to her seat, holding out the piece of paper for Harry to take once she was within reach.

Harry unfolded the plain leaflet with trepidation. Just what was going to happen to him? He had avoided the subject until now but there was no denying the bubble of nerves in his stomach at the thought of all of the weird and wonderful things he might end up going through. Finally the paper was pulled flat and all of the terrifying words were exposed. Harry's eyes skimmed over what he considered irrelevant and focused entirely on the many, long lists of symptoms…

\- Behavioral, mental and emotional changes (e.g. disinhibition)

\- Impaired sense of smell

\- Memory loss

\- Paralysis on one side of the body

\- Vision loss and inflammation of the optic nerve

\- Impaired speech

\- Seizures

\- Drowsiness

\- Headaches, especially in the morning

\- Hearing loss

\- Muscle weakness on one side of the face (e.g. head tilt, crooked smile)

\- Muscle weakness on one side of the body

\- Vomiting

\- Nausea

\- Lack of recognition

\- Difficulty speaking and swallowing

\- Inability to write

\- Incontinence…

The list went on but Harry didn't think he wanted to read anymore just now, not in front of Poppy. Maybe when he got back to the dorm room and had some privacy to fully register the realization that, as far as he could see, according to this list, he would more or less be incapable of doing anything eventually. His breath escaped him in one long, depressed and slightly surprised sigh.

"Wow…that's a lot of stuff. What's incontinence?"

"It's more or less the loss of control over when and where you go to the toilet."

"Oh. Ewe. I hope that doesn't happen to me…what's going to happen if the more obvious stuff happens though? Like not being able to write, I can't really keep going to classes if I can't write. Is there a way of hiding stuff like that?"

"Not really, no. If it's going to happen then it will. The question is just when. I understand you want to keep everything a secret, Harry, but as you're no doubt realizing, that won't be possible, not for very long anyway. Don't you think it would be more sensible to tell everyone yourself instead of having them figure it out when they witness the symptoms on that list?"

"… No? I'm not ready for anyone but the oncologist to know yet."

Poppy just raised her eyebrows at him in response, causing Harry to sigh again, this time in resignation.

"I know, I know. I'm just…I still don't think I'm ready to tell anyone yet. I don't feel like I have a good enough grip on it yet. I know it's there but it's not like it's really obvious. I don't feel like I have cancer…this isn't making much sense is it? Urgh. I just need more time. I will tell them, I just don't want to have to deal with it yet is all."

"I understand Harry. I'll be there for you when you feel like you're ready to let people know. Try not to worry too much if and when any of these symptoms show up in the meantime. I have something for you that will work as a form of communication when you're in need of me but I won't give it to you just now; I need to discuss it with you in more depth before we decide whether or not to use it. I think I'll just leave that for tomorrow."

"Right, thanks Poppy." Harry leaned over and gave the woman a brief hug to show his gratitude but didn't ask about this mysterious form of communication. He didn't think he could take anything else in right now. In fact, he was feeling practically exhausted all of a sudden; Harry wanted nothing more than to just climb under the covers and get some serious resting done.

"Do you mind if I just go to sleep? I guess the fall took a lot out of me."

Harry flashed a wan smile but both healer and patient knew that Harry's sudden need to sleep had nothing to do with the fall and more to do with Poppy's warnings about his life's timescale and the danger of continuing to fly and his resistance to all things that have to do with the time he has left, including seeking help from a healing professional. Poppy knew Harry would find it difficult to accept everything she had told him. Some time alone to think it all over was what he wanted, and time alone was what he would get.

"Alright Harry. Don't forget to brush your teeth and clean up before you go to sleep though."

Poppy stood up and smoothed the mess of hair on the back of Harry's head down in a gesture of affection before returning to her office. Harry, meanwhile, let a small smile ghost over his lips at the mothering aura Poppy had embodied as she left, though it vanished fairly quickly. Finally alone to think he burrowed under the covers and snuggled up comfortably in the soft quilts and sheets, and plump pillows that his head sank into satisfyingly.

How was he supposed to get by without flying? There was the obvious problem with boredom now that he was permanently grounded; he had a lot of time he normally spent on a broom to fill in now. He would have to quit the Quidditch team too, and the thought of the angry and disappointed expressions of his team-mates, especially Ron's, made him dread having to face them in the future about it.

On the plus side, Poppy hadn't ordered him to cease all strenuous activities just yet, so he could start up the DA again. It would help fill the empty block of time that he usually spent flying and would give him something to live for. If for no other reason than that, he thought, the DA would be reborn. Wizards and witches had to learn to defend themselves somehow now that he might not always be around to save the day…now the question remained, how was he going to bring it up to his friends and avoid telling Hermione everything in the process?

Unfortunately he would have dealt with that kind of upset by going for a whirl on his broom ordinarily. It was like everything became simplified the second he broke away from the restraints of gravity. His head became as clear as the air that encompassed him, allowing him to look at a problem in a much more relaxed and calm way. This generally produced far better results than when he was on land and in direct contact with the world that had upset him in the first place. Sometimes it was nice to break away from it all and float on air, detached from everything not just physically but mentally as well.

This particular perk to flying had been learned over time but there was a deeper, more fundamental connection to flying that had been born the very first time he flew. Before then Harry had felt more than a little out of place in the vibrant, yet intimidatingly complicated, culture of the wizarding world. He couldn't help but feel utterly ignorant and useless to a society that, at the time, seemed like something only found in the dreams and fairytales of little children.

But then came his undeniable success at flying (and later Quidditch) and he finally knew that this was his home. He belonged in the wizarding world. He was wanted and needed here, whether it was just for his skill on a broom (which in his mind proved he was worthy of being counted a wizard) or for more than that. Harry practically equated his connection to flight with his connection to the wizarding world. What use was he if he couldn't fly?

Harry frowned at his own last thought and stomped on his 11-year-old-self logic. He knew better than that now. He may no longer be able to bring Gryffindor to Quidditch success but that didn't change the fact that he belonged in this world of magic and was more than needed. Possibly more than anyone else…

Before Harry's thoughts could descend any further into the subject of Voldemort and the prophecy his mind finally quieted down for the night and he slept.

..:..

Harry woke up at seven thirty the next morning thanks to a well-trained body clock. After spending years getting up early to get on with the housework at the Dursleys' Harry now found that he just couldn't sleep right on through until late morning (or early afternoon even) like his dorm mates did at every opportunity they got.

His attention wandered slightly in the moment between dreams and reality until it found a subject to focus on in the form of Poppy, who was obviously also just up as she was half way through her morning routine and still dressed in her night clothes.

"Is that you awake now Harry? Your friends will be here for you soon, you'd best get up and ready or you'll miss breakfast. Goodness knows you've missed enough meals as it is."

Harry groaned and rolled over, pulling the quilts up to tuck tightly under his chin. He really couldn't be bothered with anything right now, and the last thing he felt like doing was getting up and attempting to go about his life like everything was normal when clearly it wasn't.

He had freaking cancer for Pete's sake! He'd only barely found out and already it was putting in an appearance and ruining his life, as if to say 'Don't think you can forget about me, your life is mine now!'

So what was the point in getting up? He would much rather just sleep thank you very much. He would probably be equally as effective lying there as he would have been getting up and going about his life anyway. You know, in the way that didn't count as living, just existing. That was what he normally did.

That was all he had done with his entire life really. Sure he had defeated a dark lord and killed a basilisk and all of those other things that most people would exclaim over, but all of that had just happened to him, none of it was in his control, and that was what Harry wanted more than anything else now.

He wanted to have the final say in his life. He wanted to have decided exactly what he felt like doing with it, and then have gone ahead and done precisely what he had said he would. Then he would have lived his life the way he chose to, the way he wanted to, rather than merely existing the way things were according to other people and events.

Wouldn't it be better to live by his own choice of path rather than the way the flow of life dictated he went? Maybe most people would kill to live their lives the way he did before they died, but they at least would have a choice in that case. Harry, however, had never had a choice in pretty much any aspect of his life, and now that it could be coming to a close he felt like he had wasted it by allowing himself to float in whatever direction the current took him. Instead he should have been assertive enough to plant his feet firmly in place to decide if he wanted to continue, or if he wanted to go against the flow, against the current that tugged at him.

But he hadn't done that, and now he had to live the last year or two of his life knowing he had wasted it. So what was the point of bothering to get up now, it was too late to do anything anyway. It was too late to struggle against the flow that had led him to where he was in life, so he might as well just lie here and wait for the last little drop of his life to eventually evaporate.

"Come on Harry, up!" Poppy bustled over to his bed in the same way she seemed to bustle everywhere while Harry opened one eye and blinked at her blearily.

"Can't I just stay in here today please?" He mumbled. Poppy frowned slightly.

"Is your shoulder hurting badly?" she asked, thinking there must still be something wrong with it.

"No. It's just a little sore when I move it or bump it, but its fine overall. I just don't really feel up to school and everything else today is all." was Harry's understated reply, his eyes resting on the bedclothes as Poppy bit her lip in uncertainty.

From Harry's explanation and body language she could tell he just wanted to hide away and that he was feeling depressed after last night's talk, she just didn't know what to do about it. Should she let him stay, and therefore be letting him wallow in despair and hopelessness over his situation? Or make him go to classes and try to avoid giving him the chance to do so?

But if she did that there was no guarantee that he wouldn't feel that way anyway, and so it would be like she was just ignoring his feelings and his need for some time to get used to the way the rest of his life would be from now on.

Finally she decided she would let him have today off only, after that she expected him back into the swing of things around Hogwarts, hopefully feeling a little better about everything.

"Just for today, I guess you can stay off."

"Thanks, Poppy. Really. Do you mind telling Ron and Hermione when they come that I'm staying off for today?"

"Sure. Go back to sleep if you want, I'll wake you up later for something to eat." And with that, Poppy had made the executive decision; she was going to contact Healer Robertson. Since Poppy had hardly had experience with cancer patients in her tenure as a medi-witch at Hogwarts, she didn't know what the best course of action would be to help Harry out of this deep pit of darkness he seemed to be trapped in currently. But surely Healer Robertson would have some advice for her. Yes she would be in a sense betraying Harry's trust in doing so, but sometimes, like in abuse cases, it needed to be done in the best interest of the patient, and Poppy firmly believed that this was one of those times. She left Harry to his own devices and went into her office to floo St. Mongo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. At least after she had spoken to someone with a greater store of knowledge of cancer than herself, she could tell Harry something more concrete after he saw his friends.

..:..

Lunchtime that day found Harry waking up once more to find Hermione sitting on the bed next to him, giggling conspiringly as she tickled his nose lightly with the tip of her quill.

She cooed; "Wakey wakey, sunshine! We brought you a chicken salad sandwich!"

"Is there eggs in it?" Harry questioned, his voice slightly hoarse with lingering sleepiness as he rubbed his nose and pushed himself up to sit against the headboard slowly.

"No, I'm sorry Harry, but you know you can't have eggs." Hermione toed off her plain, black flat-shoes and climbed fully onto the bed next to Harry. Once she was settled with her back to the headboard alongside Harry and with her legs straight out in front of her, crossed at the ankles, she handed him his sandwich.

"Thanks."

"So, how's your shoulder?"

"Much better. You know how Poppy is, she could heal practically anything in three seconds flat."

Ron snorted and sat down on a chair placed next to the bed.

"Yeah, unless you're Draco Malfoy. Then it takes months of painful spells and potions before you're better, even if it's just a scratch!"

Harry snickered in agreement and nibbled his sandwich unenthusiastically.

"Seriously though mate, I'm glad you're alright. The team had a bit of a panic last night about you maybe not being able to compete for the cup if you'd hurt yourself too badly, especially since we don't really have a reserve seeker to stand in for you. We'd have to pull Ginny out of her position as chaser and get her to do it, since she's the only one who's even slightly close to having any talent at the position. Then we'd need someone else to play chaser instead of her, but then we'd technically have two weaker players on the pitch…but everything's fine, thanks to Pomfrey there's no worries now! The team will be happy to hear it."

Ron grinned happily and clapped Harry's nearest shoulder twice, which was thankfully the uninjured one.

"Erm…about that Ron…" Ron's face immediately fell.

"Aw, no! You've got to be joking with me! I thought you said everything was fine?"

"Everything is fine, but Poppy has banned me from flying altogether now. She says it's too dangerous to risk the same thing happening again, especially since I can't expect you guys to rescue me all the time. I'm really sorry mate, honestly I am. If I could be out there flying with you, you know I'd be there in a second. I just can't afford to anymore is all…"

Ron's horror seemed to settle down slightly at Harry's explanation in order to make way for a grudgingly understanding acceptance, though he still sighed in resignation and slight annoyance.

"Nah, its cool Harry. She's right after all. Better to lose a Quidditch game than have you smash your head in when you start seeing double, or whatever it was that happened to you. I guess we'll just have to make Ginny our seeker."

There was a short, disappointed silence, which Ron broke. He was already thinking about how best to manage this blow to his Quidditch team.

"Actually, do you think that it would be better to find someone else to play seeker, who is probably not very good at all, and only have one really weak member of the team? That way, if we train hard enough, I think we could manage to score enough points that a crappy seeker won't matter, and we could win despite the other team's seeker catching the snitch."

"It depends how safe you want to play it, I guess. It would be a safer bet just to have Ginny as seeker and use a reserve chaser because then we know that, while they are the weaker players on the team in those positions, they at least have some skill. Definitely enough to get by, maybe enough to win. But if you go for a new seeker and keep Ginny as chaser it's more of an all or nothing kind of deal. Either you tare the other team to shreds or you crash and burn, badly."

"I suppose, I'll talk it over with the rest of the team and see what they think. I'm leaning more towards using Ginny as seeker though. It's just, I hate the thought of Malfoy's face if he catches the snitch in our game, and if we use Ginny, and she manages to catch the snitch, we won't have to put up with his pointy face lording it over us like he'd beaten Viktor Krum or something." Ron's nose wrinkled in distaste at the thought of Malfoy boasting about how he finally managed to catch the snitch against Gryffindor. They'd never hear the end of it.

"Speaking of Malfoy, Ginny told us what you were saying about him that time you punched Corner. Did you really mean all of that?" Hermione cut in quickly when she saw the perfect opening to steer the boys away from anymore Quidditch talk.

"Of course I did, I wouldn't have said it if I didn't. Why?"

"Well…you have to admit Harry, it's kind of strange that you said you don't hate him or think he's a bully considering how he treats us. I mean, you say you don't mind him but you always get into fights with him."

"I know, but…our rivalry isn't serious, is it? I mean…I've met people like Wormtail and Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange, who have all done horrible things in their lifetime. They've killed who knows how many people, Bella has tortured people until they don't even recognize their own kids, and Wormtail betrayed extremely close friends, just because he didn't have enough balls to stand up to anyone that so much as looked at him the wrong way. To make things worse they plan on killing even MORE people, ruining more lives, and spreading more hate and prejudice…and they all want me dead, preferably in the most painful way possible. So, I deal with people like that, and then I come back here and find the worst person I could run into, apart from Snape maybe, is Malfoy. It just puts things into perspective a little."

"I mean, think about it, what's Malfoy ever actually done? Has he killed someone? Betrayed someone? Tortured someone? No. He doesn't deserve my hatred. No more than I deserve his anyway, because, let's face it, if your reason for hating him is because you think he's an assehole in general, based on how he treats us, then you should hate me too, since I'm just as much a dick to him as he is to me. We're no different. If you look at it from his and his friends' point of view, we're the bad guys who treat them like crap and so they hate us back."

Ron just looked at Harry as though waiting for him to add a 'But…!" to his explanation which would more or less take back what he had already said. Hermione, meanwhile, wore the same expression she wore in classes, the one that meant she was giving the subject her full attention and concentration to consider what was being said.

"Look, what I'm trying to say is that I don't argue with Malfoy because I hate him or anything, because I really don't. I argue with him because sometimes he pisses me off and he pushes all the wrong buttons with me whenever he sees me. I argue with him because I don't like sitting by and not saying anything while he walks off and thinks he's got one over on me just because he took the piss and I didn't say anything back. Sometimes I even argue with him just because I'm really angry and stressed out; it's a great stress reliever to let it all go by just going mental and shouting at him like we sometimes end up doing. It's kind of fun, really. A bit like a sport. Or a personal challenge. It keeps me on my toes. You know? He keeps things interesting if it ever gets a bit boring around here."

"Although, to be honest, by now I think its more habit than anything else. I don't even think about it anymore. He says something to me, I say something back and it goes from there. It's like Hogwarts wouldn't be complete without an argument or fight of some kind with Malfoy thrown in there too. That's all it is to me, it's like a normal, every-day experience that I'm used to but I don't really feel bothered about. I don't walk around thinking about how much I hate him or something. I think it's the same for him as well."

"…Sometimes…I know it sounds pathetic but…with so much going on in my life I like being able to fall back on Malfoy. I mean, my fights with him. It's just so predictable; he's like the one thing that never seems to change around here. Sometimes I need to have something to hold on to, you know. Have you heard the saying 'It's better the devil you know'? I suppose it's kind of like that idea. By the way, if you ever tell anyone that, I might just have to kill you. Can't have Malfoy thinking I actually like him or something, heaven forbid."

Harry's friends took a moment longer to fully digest Harry's words, producing a rather substantial silence which was finally broken by Hermione.

"Oh. Well, first of all, Harry, just remember that if you need someone to ground you Ron and I will do anything we can do to help, okay? As for Malfoy…I suppose that's kind of true really. I mean the bit you said about it being put into perspective when you compare Malfoy to Wormtail or someone else like him. It's quite an interesting thought actually; I'd never considered it like that before. He really is just simply a teenager, acting up in school, and really, that's not evil is it? It's not important with people like the Death Eaters out there. He might even grow out of it… possibly…"

Hermione had taken Harry's reasoning and utterly run with it, getting rather enthusiastic as her brain went about figuring everything out and coming to it's conclusions.

"When did you come to start thinking like that though? No offence Harry, but I didn't exactly have you pinned as someone who thought very deeply about stuff like that."

"I can't remember exactly when I started thinking like that, but you're right, that wasn't always my opinion."

"It was during one summer, that I know for sure, because I remember that what started me off thinking about it was being around some of the people from my old school. They reminded me of how much I hate prejudice and judgment more than anything else. It does horrible things to people."

"Out of that thought I eventually came to realize that people judged Slytherin all the time, including myself. Apart from Malfoy, can you think of anyone in Slytherin you don't like for a valid reason that you can actually pinpoint and explain? I felt like the biggest assehole in the world then, and I promised to myself that I would never let myself be taken in by stereotypes and illogical, unfair judgments again. Although, by then it was a bit late to try and show Malfoy that I didn't care what everyone else thought, we were already established as rivals. But I stopped hating Malfoy. I kind of felt sorry for him really."

"…Right…I still think Malfoy's a bit of a prick though. I can't believe you actually feel sorry for him Harry. I don't care how hated the 'poor things' are, I still can't believe they're nice, not until I see it for myself. They ask to be hated with the way they treat people." Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Ron, you can be so childish sometimes! Honestly, I think it's a good thing that Harry actually thought about how they must feel sometimes, it shows maturity and empathy."

"What? How is that fair? Just because I don't want to give them the benefit of the doubt doesn't mean I'm immature! Did it occur to you that maybe Harry is just being naïve? I'm not saying I'll hate all Slytherins forever you know, just that I don't like the ones I know and I'll believe they're nice only if I get proof. That's perfectly reasonable! Besides, I think we're over-looking the biggest problem with them all; is everyone forgetting that they're on Voldemort's side?" Harry groaned, almost embarrassed at Ron's argument for hating Slytherins, and it appeared that Hermione felt the same way as him when she asked him incredulously, "Ron, you didn't seriously just say that, did you?"

Harry also chipped in, his voice tuned to disbelief, "Ron, have you seen with your own eyes a dark mark on any of them? You can't just go around accusing people like that! That's a serious thing to say about someone these days, you can't just go throwing it around like that! Just because they have dark backgrounds doesn't mean they're dark themselves, look at Sirius! He hated his family and wanted nothing to do with the dark side, but his family was among those with the worst reputation, and I know for a fact he went around school doing much worse things to people than any of our Slytherins do. Plus, half of Slytherin don't even belong to dark families!"

Ron blushed as Harry shot his argument to pieces with actual examples of how he was wrong.

"Okay, I get it, no need to explode! I forgot about Sirius I guess."

"And while we're on the topic of all Slytherins being evil scum or not," said Harry seriously, figuring that since Ron was already good and riled up already and it couldn't hurt for him to hear what he had to say, Harry continued with a look of determination on his face. "Do you reckon we should start up the DA this year? Since I can't play Quidditch, I might as well be doing something useful for a change."

Hermione beamed, because Harry had spared her the awkwardness of having to bring it up herself yet again. Ron however, didn't look so happy. If Harry had to hazard a guess as to what had Ron's knickers in a wad still, he would bet 5 galleons that the red-head was still hacked off about the whole Slytherin thing. And what he had to say next would hardly improve the ginger's mood one iota.

"I think that we should invitetheSlytherins to the first meeting," said Harry in a rush.

Ron tapped his ear faining deafness and stated brazenly. "Huh, I thought I just heard you say that we should invite the junior death eaters to the meeting and train them how to best defeat the light side singlehandedly."

Hermione bopped Ron upside the head for his sheer idiocy.

"Ronald Weasley," said Hermione incredulously. "In case you've forgotten, Prof-"

Ron cut off Hermione rather rudely. "Don't you dare defend Snape. Since when has he shown true loyalty to our side?"

"He's got to keep up a front," said Harry speaking as if to a rather dim-witted child. "If he doesn't treat me like I'm a screw-up on occasion and Draco like he's Merlin's gift to wizarding kind, then one of old snake face's sycophants will find out from their children, who are by the way in class with Hermione and I and Professor Snape will be thrown to the wolves. The Order needs him in order to win this war. And if I can prevent even one of the potential future death eaters from joining Tom's side then it'll be worth my while."

Ron looked thoroughly chastised by his friend's rather ruthless lecture on proper decorum. Maybe their conversation had done some good after all.

"The other day when I was hanging out here," said Harry. "I met this first year girl, and Madame Pomfrey showed me how to patch her up. We struck up a conversation; she's a Slytherin who's an innocent in this war, do you honestly think that she deserves to be lumped in with all the rest of them in the eyes of the wizarding world? What has she done to deserve the scorn of others?"

Before the friends could talk any further about the Slytherins or the possibility that they were just as normal and capable of being good people, as well as mean, as they were, or who should or shouldn't be invited to join the DA, the bell to signal five minutes till their next class rang.

Ron left feeling confused and stupid since he hadn't been able to look at the bigger picture of the Slytherins without his friends having to point it all out to him. He promised himself he would think about it all in much more depth and at least try to see where everyone else was coming from. He wanted to think it all over and come to his own conclusions about whether or not what Harry and Hermione were saying was true after honestly considering everything. If he was proven wrong then he would just have to accept it. That was always the hardest part about trying not to go back to the old, self-absorbed Ron…admitting when he was wrong.

Hermione, meanwhile, left feeling a new resolve that she would be much more tolerant to any Slytherins that bothered her, and more accepting and friendly to all other Slytherins. Harry was right after all, no one ever thought twice about how the Slytherins were actually the ones who got the hardest time around here. It was about time someone put a stop to it. She wasn't stupid enough to think that things would instantly change, but she was a firm believer in the ripple effect, where one small word or action could grow into something bigger. And she was going to be the one to cast the first stone and cause said rippling by spreading the word to those Slytherins who she deemed either impressionable enough to sway away from becoming cannon fodder, i.e. (any first through third years who wished to join) or those who she knew to be neutral and invite them to come to the Great Hall on Saturday between the hours of ten and twelve to hear what Harry had to say. Since that Edgecombe girl had broken the contract last term, Hermione would have to draft a new contract with more convoluted wording to ensure that their organization would become snitch proof. She would fill in Harry and Ron later, but for now, Hermione was on a mission and no one could stop her. She made it through classes that day by the skin of her teeth due to the cogs and wheels turning incessantly in her brain, but the end goal was worth a few unanswered questions in class.

Maybe she couldn't unite all of the houses and live in harmony together with everyone treating each other with respect, but she could at least plant the concept into the minds of others that it was a possibility that they could get on with people outside of their own groups.

..:..

Once Harry's friends had left he placed his barely touched sandwich on the bedside table and made to settle down to sleep some more.

Before he got any further than grabbing his quilt though, Poppy approached him and sat down on the bed in the spot Hermione had recently vacated. In her hands she held a simple, obviously masculine, silver watch with a face that displayed the first twelve roman numerals.

"Harry, do you remember that communication device I spoke of to you last night?"

Harry sighed and replied, though only as a reluctant participant of the conversation. He couldn't care less anymore about the stupid symptoms or how he would deal with them. When they came, they came, and then he would die. And from the sounds of it, the radiation could kill him faster than the cancer would. As far as Harry Potter was concerned, it was a lose lose situation, either way, he might very well be facing his own death in the near future, so why prolong the suffering? He could accomplish what he wanted in the time he had left rather than be bedridden until his dying day. It was as simple as that. What was the point in complicating things?

"Yeah."

"Well, this is the device I was talking about. You just lift up the latch that the face of the watch is on, almost like a locket, see? Underneath it doesn't look like anything is there but the material inside has been soaked in a special potion which will emit a wave of unseen magic when it comes into contact with a certain person."

"Originally, this was used by people who perhaps had a family member, like a mother, grandparent or child, who was very sick and in need of constant attention. Obviously people can't spend every second of their lives watching their sick loved ones, and so they used this as a kind of alarm which the sick person would carry around. If there was an emergency, or they needed help, the sick person would open the watch face, or locket, or whatever the device was, and touch the potion contained inside. On contact the potion would let out a wave of the persons magical signature, which the caretaker would feel and know that their charge needed their help."

"I thought it might be useful to you since I can't be with you all the time. After all, if you want to keep things a secret then you can't just tell someone nearby what is wrong with you and to go fetch me. If we were to use it then only I would be sensitive to the wave of magic the potion creates, anyone else might sense something momentarily but nothing major."

"That is where the problem comes in, however. In order for the potion to work I have to be extremely familiar with your magic and I need to keep myself open to the wave of magic the potion will produce. You see, every wizard and witch is born with a kind of protective barrier around the magic within their bodies which prevents their magic from being so easily accessible to everyone, and so that they themselves won't be overwhelmed by the magic of everyone else bombarding their senses. A person's magic is a very personal thing as well. To allow anyone to feel your magic is something only done between those who are very close. It would be like getting married, or adopting a child you have fostered for a long time, or even the act of sex between lovers. It is an intimate process. That is why your friend Luna Lovegood can often appear rather strange. The experimental accident that killed her mother also destroyed the protective barrier around her magic, so she is constantly connecting to the natural magic around her. She finds it very difficult to function normally sometimes, and we do keep a close eye on her but her case is extremely rare. There is little known about how to deal with it. We do what we can though, obviously."

"But anyway, because of the close relationship typically involved in this kind of process, I will completely understand if you decide you don't want to use this method of communication. Don't feel like you have to say yes because my feelings will be hurt if you say no. After all it is almost unprecedented for this device to be used outside of close family relationships for a reason. Do you want to consider it?"

Poppy waited patiently for an answer but all Harry could think of to say was 'What's the point though? It'll never make a difference in the end!' Admittedly it might reduce his suffering in some indirect way but Harry would rather not suffer at all thank you very much. He wished he could just skip the long battle with his body that he faced and die immediately, while he still had an arguably half-decent quality of life. Maybe Poppy would understand…she would  
surely have a method of humanely euthanizing him; she wouldn't want him to suffer after all.

"Harry?"

Harry had sat there without answering for so long that Poppy had to prompt him out of his depressing daze. He decided that it couldn't hurt to ask, right?

"Poppy, isn't there a way I could…speed this process up?" Poppy's brow crinkled in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean this whole cancer thing entirely. Can't I make it go quicker…as in, so quick it's pretty much immediate? There must be some kind of potion or spell that would do it?"

"Harry, are you actually suggesting to me that I murder one of my students?"

Every inch of Poppy's face screamed complete and utter incredulity as she stood up from her seat on the bed while Harry's immediate response was to cross his arms defensively and straighten up properly, suddenly feeling much more defiant and determined regarding the chances of his survival.

Her feelings about the patient didn't matter when he saw her reaction. For this very reason, Poppy Pomfry felt elated that she had had the foresight to contact Healer Robertson prior to speaking to Harry. Because if she hadn't talked to him, she would be facing a serious dilemma right about now, about which decision would be the moral high ground, healer assisted suicide or putting a patient through Hades and back in the hopes of saving their life. But the Healer had told her that it isn't uncommon for cancer patients especially those who are in their youth to become clinically depressed; he had reassured her that as long as the patient in question had the will to fight, he would take the case in tandem with a potions master whom poppy trusted implicitly, she had been prepared for this, but being prepared for the possibility of such an eventuality happening and actually sitting here and listening to a boy whom she considered her son in all but blood asking her to end his short life were two different sides of a galleon.

"Not murder, more like euthanasia really. It would just be putting me out of my misery; I don't want to spend the last of my life suffering! If I have to  
die can't I at least do it on my own terms? I'm so sick of being out of control, why can't I just have this one thing before I die? Can't I just get to  
make one decision and not have it ignored? All my life I've let everyone else make my decisions for me but I'm sick of being manipulated! If I can't gain control of my life then the least I can do is gain control of when it ends, and I don't want to draw it out any longer than necessary. That's my final decision, and whether you help me or not I'll make sure it happens. You can't watch me all the time."

Harry's gaze was like a turbulent sea with the array of different emotions they held but it was fierce, determined and resigned more than anything else.

In his mind he would have his way. All he waited on now was to find out if Poppy would help him or not.

What she did next was in no way what Harry would have predicted from her, but he would be hard pressed to find a situation for the rest of his life that was diffused as quickly and easily as the one he had created by the simple, and yet in his eyes unbelievable, action his healer took.

"Oh, Harry! Come here!"

Poppy replaced herself on the bed next to Harry and pulled him into her until his upper body rested in her lap and she rocked him, mumbling nonsense running her fingers through his hair. She pressed a kiss to Harry's head, deeply feeling the pain of someone she loved being apparently so determined to die.

Harry, utterly shocked by her reaction, did nothing for a good few seconds. He had been expecting anger, disappointment, disbelief, anything but this comforting acceptance of the depth of his feelings on the matter. And suddenly he wished she had gotten angry. He wished she had shouted at him, called him stupid, forbidden him to leave, anything. Because all her sympathy did was break down the wall he had unwittingly constructed and allow the dam inside to break allowing the emotion to come pouring through. Suddenly all the fight in Harry left him and he once more allowed his pained heart a voice through his tears, whimpers, sobs, and sniffles with the gentle presence of Poppy to ground him.

"Not once in all my years have I seen you look so defeated Harry! Not even Voldemort could squash your will to survive, what's so different about being ill? Both make you suffer and both threaten your life, why let one get to you so much and not the other? And what's all this about control, hm?"

Harry abruptly pulled away and sat up, scrubbing his face roughly with the palms of his hands and clearing his throat in an obvious effort to pull himself together and destroy the evidence of his most recent breakdown. He was sick of always crying, he'd never acted like such a baby in his life, it felt like all he did was cry these days. It was getting ridiculous. It was pathetic.

"Harry? What's wrong?"

"I'm sick of crying! All I ever do is cry! It's stupid. Girly."

"Oh, don't be so silly. If a person can't cry when they've been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer, then when can a person cry? I'd be more worried if you didn't cry an awful lot if I'm being honest. These things take time to deal with; you can't just shrug it off a couple of days later. I understand that so don't bother feeling embarrassed that you've cried a few times. I don't think any less of you for it."

"Now, why don't you explain to me some of what you're feeling? Maybe we can sort some things out, hm?"

Harry sighed and pulled his legs up onto the bed once more in order to sit cross-legged. Once comfortable he gave a somewhat simplified, understated explanation for how he felt.

"I'm just sick of having no control over anything in my life. I feel like I've never had a choice, and now that I'm dying I feel like I've missed a chance to take the control that I would have taken had I been able to live my full life. I'm sick of being manipulated, I'm sick of being who people have expected me to be just because I let it become my comfort zone. Basically, I thought I had time to figure out what I wanted and who I was, but now I know I don't, and without the hope that someday I'll be able to live free of this life, I just don't see the point in it anymore. I just want to end it now instead of going through all of the suffering and then dying."

"Harry, the cancer doesn't mean you've lost your chance to take control. Maybe it's just the opportunity you've been looking for to kick-start this process. Would you be against me having a healer come talk to you about your options, perhaps this cancer doesn't have to be the end of the line for you. The healer I'm referring to could be here as soon as the day after tomorrow if you wish to listen to what he has to say. You are in no way obligated to start treatment after you talk to him. It can't hurt to hear what he has to say right? Not to mention, I hear he's quite good looking," said Poppy in the hope that mentioning Healer Robertson's assets would kick-start her patient's will to survive. "Would I be correct if I were to say that you would be happy if you could just decide what you want to do and be, and you were able to go ahead with it instead of just obeying everyone else?"

"I guess so, pretty much…well, yeah. I want to do what I want…if that even makes sense. And if this mysterious healer is as good looking as you have led me to believe, sure, I'll be positively elated to hear what he has to say."

A broad smile crossed Poppy's lips, because Harry Potter was finally willing to stand up and fight the cancer instead of just rolling over and letting it kick him like an abused dog and just die. "I see. Tell you what then, why don't you write a list of everything you want to do before you die. Don't think of any limitations either, forget you only have a certain amount of time, and forget about all this cancer business. Just think about what would allow you to leave here happy. Then we'll have a look, see what will be possible, and get you started on going through that list. I'll do my best to help you get the things on the list done. Does that sound fair?"

"Yeah. Thanks Poppy," Harry smiled. He didn't know if this could actually work or not, but either way no one had ever gone out of their way to allow him to do what he wanted before, and that was enough to make him try at least.

"Good. Now, you get started on that, while I see to whoever is at the door. And by the way, Healer Robertson can see you during your period off on Friday morning right before Transfiguration."

Harry was perplexed. How did she know for certain that this bloke could come and talk to him at a specific time on Friday? Wasn't he some sorta super important cancer Healer or something?

At that moment Draco Malfoy walked through the door with his wand pointed at his forearm, casting a refrigeration charm. Poppy must have cast another warning spell at the door without Harry noticing, because the nosy Slytherin had made no noise as he approached the hospital wing, and therefore given no warning of his presence.

Great. Just what Harry needed. Malfoy seeing him just after bawling like a newborn baby, and judging by Malfoy's expression he wasn't going to get away with the excuse of hay fever or a cold, despite their present location.

Harry was extremely aware of the fact that he was sitting cross-legged on the bed, still wearing pajamas and more than likely looking like crap. In front of Malfoy. He would cringe if it weren't for the fact that Malfoy was staring at him. As well as that it would be extremely obvious to Malfoy that he had just been crying. He resisted the urge to wipe his face once more. While it might rub away any lingering evidence of his tears, they might have already disappeared enough to be unnoticeable. In that case rubbing his face would only draw closer attention, which would then alert Malfoy to the fact that he had been crying when he might not have noticed otherwise.

Harry lowered his head in an effort to hide his face and listened as Malfoy complained to Poppy about his friends apparently cursing him. His eyes never left Harry as he spoke, and when Poppy had to disappear into her office to collect a potion from one of the cabinets in there, he took his chance to roll his eyes, sigh, and start in on Harry.

"Oh for the love of…what's got you all upset now then Potter? I heard you had an accident at Quidditch but I never realized you'd be this pathetic about it, crying like a two year old with a skinned knee? Honestly, you're such a baby!" Malfoy tutted mockingly.

"Piss off Malfoy, what would you know? I might have a perfectly good reason to cry! Not that it's any of your business. And besides, you're one to talk considering everyone knows you're the biggest girl around when it comes to a little pain. Tell me, have you got an extra X chromosome secretly stashed somewhere? It wouldn't surprise me if you did actually, it would explain a lot. Why can't you just crawl back into the hole you came from?" Draco was clearly baffled at the bit of Muggle biology, but he understood the rest well enough.

"I am not a girl! I just use the situation to my advantage when I'm hurt is all, just like everyone else around here. The big difference between what I do and what you do Potter is that your inability to cope with anything is genuine! I don't think even a flobberworm is weaker than you are, you can't handle the tiniest little pain or problem. I mean, look at you! You're already healed, there's nothing wrong with you! Get a grip!"

At that moment Poppy came back with what looked like bottled snow, oblivious to the boys' argument, and sent Malfoy on his way quickly, but Malfoy's words had already had the chance to spear through Harry's heart, and Harry was fuming.

'How dare he! I can handle anything I put my mind to. He's the one with no strength of mind or character! I'll show him, nothing can stop me from standing tall, nothing!'

With that vow burned permanently into his mind's eye, Harry set about finding a piece of paper to get started on that list. He would need it. He just knew that from then on that he wouldn't let this thing beat him. He couldn't stand the thought of letting Malfoy win. He would prove his rival wrong once and for all. No matter what happened there would be nothing that could bring him down. He would NOT. Give. In.

..:..

The second Draco walked through the doors of the hospital wing he cast his gaze around the room, his eyes searching out their assigned target; Harry Potter.

His arm twinged again and not for the first time he cursed his idiotic, fanatical friends for the completely DISLOYAL and UNCONSENSUAL act of throwing an Incendio at his arm so that he would have an excuse for going into the hospital wing to try and figure out what was up with Potter.

All he had done was walk innocently into the dorm room after doing prefect duty with his Ravenclaw counterpart to find his friends puzzling over why Potter hadn't come out of the hospital wing since the day before. They managed to discover he had been put there by a Quidditch accident during practice by eavesdropping on the Gryffindors, but there were two things which made the group extremely curious as to what else might be going on behind this so-called accident.

The first was the fact that Potter didn't have Quidditch accidents. Not once in his Quidditch career had there been an incident that had ever purely been a simple mistake. There was always something more going on behind it, whether it was homicidal bludgers or even dementors wanting to suck out his soul.

The second reason for their curiosity was that Potter had been kept in, not only overnight, but off of classes as well. This was extremely unusual, as most incidents were healed extremely quickly. Only more serious problems required more lengthy visits.

Instead of just leaving the issue when it became clear that the answer wasn't just going to pop up in pink neon letters in front of them like any normal person would have done, his psychotic friends had thought it a good idea to send him in incognito. So, they burned his arm so that he would have a reason for being in the hospital wing without arousing suspicion WITHOUT including him in this little decision, and then had the nerve to laugh at him when he screeched indignantly and then grumbled loudly about the fact that the lot of them couldn't produce one brain cell if they all chipped in together.

"What's happened to you then dear?"

"My IDIOT friends burned my arm. Practicing Incendio." Malfoy scowled and snorted. "They definitely need it anyway!"

He was not impressed. Not in the slightest.

Well, since he had been sent in here against his will he might as well do what he came here to do. He had noticed the second he walked in that Potter had been crying. He would have loved to feel the satisfaction of knowing Potter looked like an idiot when he cried, but sadly he was one of those highly annoying people who managed to look amazing whether they cried or not. Draco looked like he was allergic to tears when he cried, something he hated with a passion. His face went all blotchy and his eyes went all red and puffy, he even got a runny nose that left him sniffling pathetically all the time. And yet, there Potter sat with a face blotch-free and a complete lack of red eyes or puffy skin. The only thing to give away the fact that Potter had been crying at all was the moisture still clinging to his eyelashes, even the tear tracks had been wiped away. This just served to further irritate Malfoy and he couldn't help but lash out.

"Oh for the love of…what's got you all upset now then Potter? I heard you had an accident at Quidditch but I never realized you'd be this pathetic about it, crying like a two year old with a skinned knee? Honestly, you're such a baby!"

"Piss off Malfoy, what would you know? I might have a perfectly good reason to cry! Not that it's any of your business. And besides, you're one to talk considering everyone knows you're the biggest girl around when it comes to a little pain. Tell me, have you got an extra X chromosome secretly stashed somewhere? It wouldn't surprise me if you did actually, it would explain a lot. Why can't you just crawl back into the hole you came from?"

Draco couldn't help but get a little confused, 'X chromosome? What on earth is that? It doesn't matter! That prick just called me a girl! No wait, try and get him to say why he's here…um…I know! I'll make him think I see him as pathetic, then maybe he'll try and prove he's not by telling me about whatever horrible thing he's supposedly gone through to land him here in the first place!'

"I am not a girl! I just use the situation to my advantage when I'm hurt is all, just like everyone else around here. The big difference between what I do and what you do Potter is that your inability to cope with anything is genuine! I don't think even a flobberworm is weaker than you are, you can't handle the tiniest little pain or problem. I mean, look at you! You're already healed, there's nothing wrong with you! Get a grip!"

Just as Potter was about to answer Madame Pomfrey came out of the office with a potion to help heal the burn and sent him on his way. He had no choice but to leave with no new information to help solve the mystery. In fact, if anything, what he'd discovered just made it even more a mystery, as far as Draco could see there was nothing wrong with Potter except the fact that he'd cried, so why was he In the hospital wing?

When Draco reached the common room, he pointedly ignored his Potter-stalking friends and strolled calmly back to his dorm room to plot revenge on them. He wasn't indulging their stupid tendency to want to know anything and everything about Potter until after he had gotten his own back on them. It may just be something they do as a joke to provide some entertainment, but burning his arm was desperate, even for them. Admittedly the curse was an extremely weak one, and it hadn't really hurt after the initial first couple of seconds…but still! That was impulsive, even for them! Well, maybe not…actually, it was just the sort of weirdo thing they'd do all the time really…and they always did it to Draco because for some reason they found his reactions amusing. Hah. He'd show them amusing. Let the pranks begin!

To be continued…

..:..

A/N: I hope that this chapter isn't to confusing. Some of the writing isn't the way I'd like it to be, but I lost all of the original chapters I had posted and am relying heavily on ao3 for these chapters, so some of the writing was left out here. Well, you got to see what Malfoy's up too. I'd very much like it if you reviewed.


	6. Chapter 6: The Wish List

Diagnosis

A/N: Any opinions on the following chapter would be appreciated, but I think it's better than the last. Thank you for those who commented on the last by the way, I agree with those of you who thought I'd hurried things too much with Harry going through the range/spectrum of emotions. Hopefully this chapter will help explain why I felt the need not to linger on the whole suicidal bit, despite my agreeing that it was too hurried.

I also wanted to appologize for how long this fic has been left unfinished. I want to reassure you that no matter how long between updates, that this story will never be abandoned. If I for some reason can no longer update it, I'll give it up for adoption.

Disclaimer: Much to my dismay, I don't own the rights to the cannon universe.

Chapter 6: the Wish List

..:..

While Draco ignored his friends' attempts at interrogation and tried to come up with different ways to prank them for even daring to pull that stunt with the incendio on him, Harry sat on his hospital wing bed and rapidly scribbled every little thing he could think of that he would love to do on a piece of parchment. His expression changed often, flitting between different emotions as quickly as his hand formed each item on his list, but the ruling expression was a pensieve one. This was important to him. He would put all of his effort into creating this list, and he would make sure he did all he could to get everything realistically possible on it done.

Poppy

Poppy watched from afar as she pottered about doing any small chores in the wing, as long as they kept her close to Harry. She wanted to be there when he finished.

It wasn't until half an hour before dinner that Harry finally seemed to relax back into the upright pillows behind his back and survey what he had come up with.

"Are you finished with your list?"

"I think so. I guess I'll just add anything else I think of to it later, but just now I think I'm done. Do you want to see?"

Harry looked up and Poppy felt a spark of happiness that Harry considered her worthy enough to be so open with her. She had worried that the list he had written would be too personal for him to allow her to read it, but it seemed her anxiety was unfounded. He was obviously keen for her to go through the list with him. She couldn't help but enjoy the feeling it gave her, the sense of what it must be like to have a son that depended on you, regardless of age or independence level.

"Certainly! Now, let's see…"

Harry handed her the list and let her eyes scan the parchment his hands had so painstakingly written on. What they found was a variety of things, some of which were expected, but a large number of which were not. Poppy raised her eyebrows at a few, and in any other circumstances she would utterly disapprove of plenty of them, but she reminded herself that Harry wanted to do these things, and he might only have a very small amount of time left to do them in.

"Well, it seems to me like a lot of these would involve leaving the school grounds…?"

"Yeah, I know, but you said not to think about restraints so I just put down anything I could think of. But it's okay. I can just do the other things on the list." Harry smiled but Poppy could see the resigned disappointment in his eyes.

"You know…it's an awful shame I've had to ban you from Quidditch…not very fair at all…maybe it would be fairer to give you a special pass with permission to leave the school grounds at any time you wish? Just as an alternative form of entertainment, of course, as a sort of consolation for the loss of flight. Obviously only staff members can give out such things, and obviously students aren't ordinarily allowed them except in special circumstances. And I think that it'd be prudent to tell your Head of House some of what's going on, both so that she would be another staff member that knows of your medical situation in case of emergency and for the added support of another staff member for the permission form. No doubt some of the less favorable professors will cause a fuss, but I for one don't give a shrivel fig about what they think." Poppy broke into a mischievous grin as she pictured the look on the new DADA professor's face upon learning that Harry would receive (in the Ministry's humble opinion anyways) preferential treatment due to his status as the boy-who-lived.

"But I'm sure that in the end your teachers would recognize my authority as part of the staff to give a student who has so unfairly and unwillingly been stripped of his favorite hobby a pass, should they ask. Don't you think?" The healer's so-called 'casual' tone was actually rather far from casual and closer to scheming. She couldn't help but smile as Harry's face lit up.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Just try not to be too obvious or silly with it. You could get it taken from you if you draw too much attention to the fact that you have permission to be outside of Hogwarts at any time. You can bring people with you wherever you are, up to a maximum under one pass though; so you can bring your friends. Just promise me you'll be careful?"

"I promise, Poppy! And I suppose you ought to tell Professor McGonagall about my health, though please make sure that the news won't be spread around the school like wild fire. I only want those who have to know about it too. Thank you so much for the pass! You won't regret this, honestly!"

"Good. Now maybe you can get out there and have a bit of fun. And of course, it goes without saying that if you pursue treatment, part of your absence from the castle could be explained away by unnecessary excersions to have fun, instead, of what they really are, trips to and from the hospital. Though never fear my dear, even Filch wouldn't question my permission for something medically necessary if the worst should happen and Hogwarts at large finds out, now would he?"

"Don't worry, I intend to. And I reckon Filch wouldn't, but you never know with him…"

"Too right," said Poppy her lips turning up in a mischievous smile.

"I have a question Poppy," said Harry hesitantly.

"Yes."

Harry gnawed his lip nervously before saying, "When healer Robertson comes to talk to me on Friday, how will we explain his presence in the castle to the Headmaster? He has a penchant for sticking his overly large nose into nooks and crannies where it doesn't belong. And the last thing I want is him finding out about my cancer before my friends know."

"I've already got that covered," reassured Poppy. "You see, healer Robertson and I've known each other since we were youngsters, and we oftentimes come to consult with one another when we're unsure of a diagnosis; it isn't out of the ordinary for him to be seen striding through these halls. And if the worst should happen, I've got a host of readily available excuses to give him. I can always state that I can't tell him a blasted thing because of the Healers Oath and he can't do a darn thing about it, no matter how much it infuriates him."

Poppy took hold of Harry's hand and gave it a squeeze, her expression and manner changing as the tone of their conversation turned more serious.

"I'm glad to hear it, but does that mean I can trust that I won't find you lying at the bottom of the astronomy tower or lying in a pool of blood then? It scares me to hear you say you want to take your own life, but I would rather know so that I could help you."

Poppy fixed him with a probing gaze that forbade him to avoid either her or the necessity for an honest answer to her question. Harry sobered up quickly and became rather sheepish in response.

"I - I'm really sorry Poppy, I didn't mean to scare you. I didn't even mean it, not really. I just got so frustrated and had a bit of a temper tantrum I guess, that's all. I mean, you know me, I might get really angry very quickly but stuff like that never lasts with me. In fact, I can just imagine that by the time I had everything set up to do away with myself I'd just be really annoyed and disgusted for even thinking of being such a spineless quitter."

Harry gave a weak smile in an effort to reassure.

"Seriously though, if there's one thing I've taken pride in my whole life it's that I don't let anything get to me, not even my family. I want to be strong. I don't want to let them have the satisfaction of ruining me. I suppose I kind of forgot that when Voldemort came back. I can't help but feel ashamed of myself when I look back and see what I've let myself become…but this is my chance to make up for it! I'll prove that I have plenty of inner strength. I can handle anything if I put my mind to it. I know I can."

The sheer strength of the conviction, determination, and will-power in Harry's voice gave Poppy the reassurance she had been looking for, allowing her to give him a smile at the end of his small speech. Harry's eyes burned with the inner strength he had always had, despite it having been dampened since Cedric Diggory's death and Voldemort's return. Poppy couldn't help but notice that the words sounded almost like a long-ago, yet familiar, mantra being renewed.

She couldn't have been more accurate, and the longer her mind lingered on the words Harry had spoken the more she remembered past incidents when the words had gotten him through.

"Now that's more like the Harry Potter I know. I haven't heard that particular pearl of wisdom from you in a while. You used to say that to me all the time in your earlier years, when you would talk about your family. I admit it's a relief to hear you say it again."

"But now I think it's about time you rejoined the world of the living, don't you? Go and get ready for dinner. It'll be starting soon."

With that said Poppy patted Harry's knee twice, stood up, and left him to organize himself. She was glad that the idea of it being better to kill himself now, instead of trying to make the most of the life he had left, despite the struggles he had to live through yet, had pretty much been derailed before it could pick up steam.

Harry left the hospital wing to make his way to dinner with his list clutched in one hand, and his ticket to making the things on that list possible tucked away in his pocket.

Harry

As Harry made his way along the corridors and down the stairs, suicide was the last thought on his mind. What ran through his head continuously instead were the countless new possibilities that were now ahead of him. There were so many previously locked doors now opening up to him, all thanks to Poppy, and now he could barely decide what he wanted to try doing first.

He supposed logically that he should do the most important things to him first. So what was most important to him in life? The people in it of course. That meant that he should start making changes and taking action regarding those people first, rather than starting with experiences which weren't all that important in the grand scheme of things. Well, beyond the fact that he really wanted to do them.

But even then, there were so many things in that particular category of Stuff-To-Do that he still wasn't sure where to start. Perhaps with the Slytherins?

Holly abruptly popped into his head, along with the memory of promising he would visit her at her table some time. He would need to make sure he did visit her; he didn't want to let her down after all. She was a sweet kid, and it would be nice to catch up with her and make sure he hadn't unwittingly botched her healing. He would do it another night though; he wasn't that sure he was up to it at the moment. His day had already danced an emotional tango and the last thing he wanted was to have to deal with the uncharted territory that was the Slytherins' table.

Before Harry could consider his options any more he was hit with another thought, just as he walked the last few paces to the doors of the great hall, causing him to pause in the rhythm of his footsteps briefly.

'Of course! Voldemort! How could I forget!'

Harry couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed that he had taken so long to even remember his and Voldemort's unfinished business. Its importance went above and beyond anything else on his list, and the fact he had even had to think about what to deal with first was disgraceful.

Harry made the decision then to have 'Find a way to off MoldyShorts, soon.' be his top priority. While he worked on it (He had no doubt it wouldn't be a walk in the park after all, far from it in fact), he would take the opportunity to do anything else on his list as it came to him.

Before Harry could complete his journey to the Gryffindor table he looked up and caught the eyes of Ron, who looked at him rather apologetically and then shrugged his shoulders helplessly. Confused, Harry scanned the rest of the table and found that the majority of his house was shooting extremely annoyed glances in his direction. Harry quickly slowed down as he tried to puzzle out exactly why he was getting such dirty and betrayed looks. Finally, he realized.

'Of course. Ron must have told them about me quitting the team…maybe I will visit Holly tonight after all. It'll probably be less stressful than the earful I'll get from the Gryffs.'

Harry smiled in reassurance at Ron and Hermione's sympathetic expressions and waved cheerfully, turning around and heading for the Slytherin table.

Occupants of the Gryffindor Table

Back at the red and gold table, the students were quickly frowning in confusion just as Harry had. Ron lowered his feebly waving arm slowly.

"Ehhh…where the heck is he going exactly?"

"Looks like the Slytherin table for some reason." Hermione answered, her eyes following Harry as he came to stop next to a first year girl. Her hair was an ash-brown color and held back from her face in a pony-tail, making it easy to see her dark grey eyes and the countless freckles that littered her mildly pale face. Neither Ron nor Hermione recognized her. "But I surmise she's that kid that Harry mentioned healing up," said Hermione hesitantly. She didn't want to reignite the argument of earlier back up with Ron by saying too much.

"You can't be serious. What on earth for?"

"Maybe he's trying to prove a point?"

"What, you mean because of what we were talking about earlier? Why would he do that?"

"Well, I don't know, I'm just guessing here."

Ron eyed the rest of the Gryffindor table, as though the answer would be written on one of their faces.

"We're not that scary are we?" asked Dean, who was one of those who had been glaring at Harry for the, in his opinion, idiotic decision to quit the team. It was like throwing away the cup!

"Yeah, actually, you do look pretty creepy now that you ask. You should really look up some cosmetic charm specialists. Come on 'Mione, let's go."

Ron and Hermione made to climb out of their seats as the rest of the table got a laugh at Dean's expense, but Harry glanced over, made sitting motions with his hands and mouthed 'Later!', causing them to resume their seated positions. The Gryffindor table exchanged nonplussed looks.

"I assume we'll be giving him the third degree the second he gets back to the tower then?" Ginny asked casually.

"Definitely!" replied Parvati.

"I was thinking something more along the lines of the Spanish Inquisition." Hermione chipped in, in a jokingly sadistic manner as she reached for her pumpkin juice.

"I like your style Hermione!" was Seamus' input, and from there everyone went back to enjoying their meal, knowing they would extract answers from Harry soon.

Pansy

Meanwhile, sitting at the Slytherin table and blissfully unaware of what was about to transpire, Pansy was beginning to get extremely annoyed. She was trying to have a conversation, but this was made much more difficult when the group of first year girls she and her friends were sitting next to kept acting like such snobby, all-knowing prats. One of the three girls seemed to be claiming that she was a friend of Harry Potter's, and he was going to come sit at their table for the sole purpose of experiencing her company.

Yeah, right.

Normally Pansy wouldn't have cared one little bit considering ridiculous claims like that were common, especially amongst the innocent first years. What caught her attention and annoyed her this time, however, were the two girls who appeared to be the storyteller's friends. Supposedly.

While Pansy agreed that there was nothing wrong with telling their friend that they didn't believe her and she should stop telling such obvious lies, it was the way they went about doing so that she found appalling. Draco, who sat across from her, seemed to agree if the frown on his face was anything to go by.

"We're not stupid you know Holly, I wish you would just stop going on about this stupid lie! Harry Potter is not going to make friends with a first year Slytherin, especially not one like you. If he was to make friends with a Slytherin first year you'd be the last person he would consider, you're too whiney and clumsy and babyish. You know, if you keep acting like such a loser you won't have any friends, honestly, you've been annoying us so much with this nonsense! Right, Megan?"

Megan, who blushed as the attention was turned to her, just nodded uncertainly. She thought Holly was being rather silly with her outrageous claim of being Harry Potter's friend, but that didn't mean she deserved such mean things being said to her. Unfortunately Megan didn't have the necessary back-bone to say that to the third member of their group, and so the self-important girl made to continue her harsh rant with a victorious look as no one put her in her place.

Until, that is, Pansy finally decided that she had, had enough of listening to the blatant bullying going on right next to her.

"Oh for goodness sake! Lay off will you? You're starting to annoy me, and I'm not even involved! Quite frankly I'd rather have a lying loser for a friend than you if I had to listen to that all day. You should always support the members of your house. Even if it means you take them aside and warn them subtly that their behavior isn't appropriate to a member of the house. Never forget that."

The young girl's mouth snapped shut and she blushed, slightly ashamed at herself for having to be reminded by a sixth year of what was important; the strength of the house as a whole. She just got so caught up with the vision of superiority which she had been disillusioned with that she couldn't help but voice her thoughts. It was a habit that was slowly being broken down by the collectivist attitude of her housemates, rather than the individualist attitude of her family at home.

When Pansy turned back to her friends, Draco gave her a barely noticeable nod after taking note of the first year's reaction. She couldn't help but smile a little in return. As senior students it was their job to watch over the state of their house, and constantly ensure that everyone observed the basic principles lain down by their head of house. It was nice to be given acknowledgement for her efforts to maintain the long-standing tradition of solidarity within.

Draco

"Oi, Malfoy. Incoming."

At the unexpected warning from an unknown third year boy, Draco looked away from Pansy and looked for whatever or whoever was coming. What he discovered was that Potter appeared to be making his way over to the Slytherin table. Pansy narrowed her eyes in question when she saw his response to whatever was occurring behind her, no doubt able to read the expression on his face that seemed neutral to anyone else, but to her screamed 'What the Hell?'. Draco just shook his head and muttered to her the name of the disturbance, which was steadily succeeding at silencing all conversation at the Slytherin table as more and more people noticed him. Draco privately commended Pansy for not instantly turning around to get a look for herself at this never-before-seen occurrence. Draco had been known to occasionally bother the Gryffindors at their dinner table, but they had never taken up the act themselves before, not even once. Pansy whispered back incredulously; "Why the hell is he coming over here? He's never bothered before, why start now?"

Draco just shrugged again and pretended to be casually eating his dinner in preparation for the expected interruption, though what the interruption would involve was a complete mystery to him. He waited patiently and calmly on the outside but inside his mind raced through the possibilities.

Maybe Potter was coming over to insult him. But if that was the case, why was he bothering now when he had never bothered before? Maybe he needed to talk about something. Although, what on earth could he possibly want to talk about?

Draco froze suddenly. Maybe he wanted to talk about the war in some way. Or maybe he wanted to talk about Draco's father...or Voldemort...maybe he even wanted to ask Draco for his allegiance and loyalty! Maybe -!

Maybe he wasn't even coming to see Draco.

Potter had just walked quite casually past his rivals. Draco pretended not to notice the slight disappointment curling its way around his mind. He instead allowed a small, confused frown to escape. What on earth was going on here? He noticed that Blaise looked like a kid in a sweet shop, considering the opportunity he had to observe such a rare piece of gossip about the boy-who-lived in person. Everyone else at the Slytherin table within a reasonable distance of this strange event continued to eat their dinner as normal and didn't look at Potter, but they all remained silent and hyper-aware of where he was heading and anything he might say. They all waited on tenterhooks to see where he was going, only to feel complete confusion and ignorance when he stopped next to a first year girl.

Blaise's eyes glimmered in glee, causing Millie some amusement at his predictably childish behavior. She just knew he would be speculating on this incident for weeks to come and by extension so would she.

Pansy and Draco, however, locked eyes at the realization of Potter's original destination. The girl hadn't actually been telling the truth, had she?

Harry

Harry almost groaned when he finally spotted Holly sitting right next to Malfoy and his cronies. Well, he might as well bite the bullet and go sit down. He wasn't letting the prospect of Malfoy spitting insults at him for the duration of dinner stop him from keeping his promise.

Making sure not to even look at his opponent, Harry confidently strode over to Holly and alerted her to his presence by dropping his bag onto the bench next to her. Conversation was non-existent around him by the time he had reached the table, and Holly twisted in her seat to see who was causing all the fuss.

"Harry! I knew you'd come!"

"Of course I did, I said I would didn't I?"

Harry smiled at the girl as she beamed back and flung her arms around his waist, which was about as high as she could reach considering their difference in height and the fact that she was sitting, while he stood. Harry just laughed good-naturedly and stroked her hair since he couldn't wrap his arms around her in return from his position.

"Are your friends coming too?"

"Nah, they're staying at the Gryffindor table."

Holly pulled back out of the hug and glanced over at the Gryffindor table as Harry shoved his bag forward off of the bench and under the table in order to make room to take a seat. While he settled down, he also glanced over to his house table and found Ron and Hermione beginning to climb out of their seats as if to follow him.

Harry quickly signaled to them to stay put; it wouldn't be a good idea to have them come over until he'd explained to them why he was even there in the first place. The last thing he wanted was for a fight to break out between the Slytherins and his friends when he was only trying to spend some time with Holly. Malfoy and the others appeared to be handling his presence well so far, but he didn't know if their tolerance would stretch to include two more Gryffindors, no matter how curious they might be as to why exactly the trio were there talking to one of their first years.

This was, of course, assuming that the reason for their silence was curiosity. It could have simply been the fact that they were so shocked at his presence that they hadn't yet recovered enough to fully react, and would do so explosively at any moment…Harry decided not to look into the proverbial gift-horses mouth however, and instead turned his attention once more to Holly. He placed his hand under her chin and gently tipped her head back. He wanted to be 100 percent sure that his healing spells had done their job faultlessly.

Holly just stared back at him while he examined her face.

"Em…Harry? What are you doing?"

"Hm? Oh, I was just checking to see that there was no bruising or anything. Did everything heal up okay? Be honest!"

"Yeah, you did a great job Harry! I wish I could heal stuff. Do you think Madame Pomfrey would let me help her when I'm in 6th or 7th year too?"

"I don't know, that's up to her I'm afraid. You'd have to prove to her that you take it very seriously though, and that you'll work very hard to be able to learn the techniques properly. I'm sure if you're determined enough you could convince her eventually.," replied Harry tapping his chin in thought. He knew that Hermione intended to inform the other houses of the DA meeting on Saturday, but would she avoid the Slytherins, thinking that they were hopeless cases? "Holly, I can't promise you that Madame Pomfrey will teach you, though knowing her as I do, I'm sure she will…but if you'd like you're welcome to come to the great hall at ten o'c on Saturday morning to learn some healing spells amongst other things."

Draco blushed upon overhearing what Harry had just said to Holly. Though he was surprised that Potter didn't taint the younger years view of him by telling them about how his friend's and he had been part of the inquisitoroial squad last year who took great pleasure in getting Dumbledore sacked and their group dismembered by way of informing Professor Umbridge about Dumbledore's army.

"I'd love to, but what would my friends do while you were teaching me all about healing?"

"Everyone is their first and foremost to learn how to defend themselves during the upcoming confrontation. And you ought to be pleased to be the first one to hear that I plan upon having several of the students who wish to stay out of the thick of things, to serve as a healing squad of sorts whose only job during a battle is to retrieve injured students, take them behind the line of fire, and stabilize them so that they can make it to Madame Pomfrey in time." Though his housemates might be a tad jealous that the Slytherins were the first to hear the news and therefore would be the potential members who would by default have first dib's in a neutral position but still be doing something for the cause.

"I hope so! I've decided I want to be a healer when I'm older. I'm going to work even harder than your friend! And I can't wait for Saturday, will you be teaching me how to heal people?"

"I have to talk to Poppy to make sure that she's on board, but I hope to teach you guys in shifts, when I'm free, I'll teach you guys, then when I'm working with those who are learning defensive spells, Poppy will teach you." Harry left out the minor detail that when he had to quit the most important role of teaching the older years, and worked with the healing squad he'd be doing so because he was to sick to serve in the capacity of defense instructor that particular day.

Holly rubbed her hands together gleefully.

"And good luck on outsmarting Hermione then! I doubt many people could manage that considering the stupid amount 'Mione works. Just be careful and try not to wear yourself out too much like she sometimes does. You should work hard, but you should play harder."

Harry winked playfully at Holly and finally took note of the people he was sitting next to. The girl sitting across from him had long dark hair, pulled up into a neat, elegant bun, and fairly pale skin. Her eyes were also dark with the color similar in shade to that of a medium coffee-brown, which expressed her wariness of him and the sense that she didn't quite know what to do with herself in her current situation. As a result she appeared to shut herself off from him to a degree for protection.

Next to this girl, and in front of Holly, sat a rather timid looking blond girl with averagely blue eyes and a slightly rounded face. Harry could barely believe the similarities between the girl and Neville, and if he hadn't been positive that Neville would have told them if he had a sister, he would have easily believed the girl to be a long lost relative of the boy's.

To Harry's right were a large group of third years, and to Holly's left sat none other than Draco Malfoy's group, though specifically it was Parkinson actually sitting next to her. Obviously, Parkenson hadn't yet declared for the Dark side or she would have already told known supporters of Voldemort who sat at this very table what she had overheard about the invite on Saturday. Harry hoped that she could be trusted.

Harry had to remind himself not to bother about them when the eerie silence began to creep him out a little. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this exposed.

"So, I take it these are your friends then?" he asked, referring to the two first year girls sitting across from him and Holly.

"Yep. The one sitting across from you is Ann, and the one across from me is Megan."

Harry offered his hand to the girl opposite him but she seemed rather wary of taking it, making Harry think for a split second that she would refuse to shake his hand at all. In spite of this, however, she slowly but surely lifted her hand off of her lap to grip his own briefly, though not so brief as to be impolite.

"Hey, my name's Harry–"

"–Potter. I know. Ann Dawson."

Harry tried hard to hide his irritation at Dawson's interruption and the fact that she just ignorantly rubbed in his face the fact that he couldn't seem to escape the reputation he now had. He couldn't even introduce himself to a stranger without them already knowing him (or so they thought), and it was all thanks to the newspapers and magazines. They couldn't seem to find anything better to talk about than him, which you would think was an almost impossible task considering the times they were living in, but somehow they managed to defy that impossibility.

"Oh. Right. I should have figured you'd know already. Sorry."

Draco

Draco, who had missed the slightly bitter tone in Potter's voice, snorted quietly. 'Arrogant git. He really does seem to expect everyone to know who he is just because he's got a scar.'

Harry

The blonde girl, apparently Megan, wasn't as restrained as the newly identified Ann, and smiled at him in greeting while she too shook his hand.

"It's nice to meet you Harry. I didn't really believe Holly when she said you two were friends I'm afraid. Sorry Holly."

Megan's last phrase was directed at Holly with a blush, which simply flicked the end of her pony-tail over her shoulder and smiled in a combination of acceptance at the apology, and dismissal to Megan's lack of belief in her. When Holly could see that her friend still felt awkward and uncomfortable, she tactfully changed the subject to safer ground. Or so she thought.

"I heard you were in the hospital wing Harry, is that why you missed dinner? Are you alright now?"

Harry scanned the table in front of him to see if he could see a pudding he particularly fancied while listening to Holly. He had missed the main course while getting ready to leave the hospital wing.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Nothing that Madame Pomfrey can't handle, you know how she is. Probably better than anyone else I bet." Harry teased.

Holly stuck her tongue out at Harry in response and spooned some ice cream into her mouth. Meanwhile, Harry couldn't recognize the plate of muffins sitting in front of him and happily seized his chance to get off of their new, barely touched conversation topic again.

"I thought the menu this week was the normal one? What's this?"

"Well, it is. It's just that different house tables get different things. Those are banana muffins. The Gryffindors get chocolate muffins don't you? It's so unfair! I love chocolate muffins but we never get them." Holly pouted and glared at the offending plate of cakes. Harry merely blinked in surprise.

"Really? What's the point in that? Why don't they just give everyone a selection of muffins? That's so stupid." he commented bemusedly. "Well, you can have mine if you want. Although I'm assuming Ron hasn't scoffed it down already. Which he probably has actually."

"Really?"

"Sure. Hang on and I'll go see if Ron's already eaten it. I normally give it to him anyway you see."

Harry climbed out of his seat and left his school-bag behind in what was either a moment of utter brainless stupidity, or a show of good faith towards the Slytherins while he walked over to the Gryffindor table to see if there were any chocolate muffins left for Holly.

Holly

The second he was gone, the Slytherins broke out in frantic gossip, eager to ask and answer as many questions as possible in the time they had before Potter got back. After the initial outburst of hissed whispers however, the general hubbub died down until everyone left the questioning to Holly's friends while they listened in.

"Oh my God, Holly! I can't believe you made friends with Potter! Of all people! How did you do it? Where on earth did you even meet him? And what's he talking about some healing thing for? Did-"

Holly was completely taken aback at first but she recovered eventually and finally managed to reply, cutting off Ann's constant stream of inquiry in the process.

"Calm down! It's not that big a deal, honestly. Remember that day I tripped and fell on the stones outside, and I scraped up all of my face and arms? Well when I went to see Madame Pomfrey, Harry turned up. Madame Pomfrey was busy with a couple of other boys though, so she taught him how to heal my scrapes on a fake arm and he healed me up. That's it, basically."

Finally, Blaise could contain himself no longer and he dropped all pretenses of not being interested.

"He was in the infirmary again? Do you know what for? This is getting kind of weird don't you think? I mean, in the last month alone Potter was picked up out of potions where it was implied he'd been there once already. So, that's twice. Then there was the incident in potions again, three, the time he apparently met you, four, and then this mysterious Quidditch injury that was no way bad enough to justify how long he was in for, five. That's more than once a week!"

"Something's not right, I'm telling you. Maybe Madame Pomfrey is training him even though he isn't out of school yet, that at least fits in with what you're saying about him healing you. Speaking of which, did he really heal you? I'm shocked if he did, even the trainee healers out of school don't get to do that kind of stuff without studying all sorts of theory on it first."

"He did so heal me up, and there were no bruises or sore bits or anything. Has he really been in that much though? I hope he's alright. Maybe he's just really clumsy like me?" Holly couldn't help but worry upon hearing her friend had been in the hospital wing so much.

Pansy

Pansy could see that Potter was making his way back over, and took her last chance to say what she wanted to say.

"Listen Whyte, I'm sorry. I thought you were making it up just like everyone else. If I had known you were telling the truth-"

"It's okay. I guess it is kind of unlikely that we would be friends. I mean, where or when would we meet up in the normal school routine? No where really."

Harry

By the time Harry sat back down everyone had once more returned to pretending to eat their puddings obliviously.

"Sorry, but Ron got there before me."

"Awwww, that's a shame. It doesn't matter though." Holly looked vaguely disappointed, making Harry bite his lip, feeling even worse.

"But it's still not fair! Tell you what; I'll bake some chocolate muffins for you. How does that sound?"

"You can do that?"

"Yeah. I know where the kitchens are. You can help me if you want, we can make loads and you can hand some out to your friends or something."

"That would be so cool! I didn't even know you could cook! Can we do it tonight?"

Harry looked slightly surprised at Holly wanting to bake with him that very night, but it wasn't like he really had anything else on tonight, and it would be a great excuse to escape from the question and answer session that was no doubt awaiting him back in the tower.

"Sure, why not. I can meet you at eight in the entrance hall and take you to the kitchens if you'd like?"

"Yes! I can't wait!" Holly punched her arm in the air in her excitement, once more acting like she was cheering at a Quidditch match, making it clear to Harry that this method of expressing her happiness or excitement must just be a quirk belonging to the girl. He smiled at the enthusiasm and decided he would settle for a cup of tea and get something to eat in the kitchens later if he felt hungry.

The conversation from then on was mostly held between Harry and Holly, with Dawson and Megan only talking when they had been spoken to directly and an answer was expected. Malfoy and his friends, meanwhile, continued to eat in near silence, partly because they didn't want to miss anything important, but mostly because they simply didn't know what to do with themselves. After all, what did one say in response to your supposed enemy sitting himself down in the middle of home-base and chatting idly with one of your own?

After a while of talking about how Holly was getting on in her classes, and Harry helping her with the pronunciation of Wingardium Leviosa (not forgetting to regale her and her friends with the tale of Ron's difficulty and Hermione's slightly patronizing help), the conversation was interrupted by none other than Severus Snape.

Those who saw him coming first could only assume that he was there to question Potter's presence, and possibly do something about it. They just couldn't decide whether or not they hoped this assumption would prove to have a base in fact...actually, they were getting quite annoyed at their own lack of decision making. One would be forgiven for thinking they were incapable of it the way they were currently going, and Slytherins absolutely abhor appearing incapable or unable. However, we've been sidetracked; let us move on.

Harry quickly thought of what the reason was for the subtle change in atmosphere and gave himself the internal instruction to just play it cool. He calmly sipped his tea and waited for the professor to reach him and say whatever it was he had to say.

"Potter."

"Professor?"

"What evenings do you have free?"

Harry blinked. Was he getting detention then? Somehow he didn't quite think that was very fair, especially considering there wasn't an actual rule stating anywhere that the houses had to stay apart.

But that made no sense, if he was getting detention then why would Snape bother to ask for a time he was free to do it in?

"Why?"

Uh oh. Now Snape just looked irritated.

"Why do you think, you dunderhead, have you already forgotten our arrangement regarding remedial potions lessons?"

Snape raised his eyebrow.

"Oh! Yeah! I completely forgot about that! Em, I'm free for whenever you want me."

Upon hearing the words coming out of his mouth Harry couldn't help but be aware of how they could be taken and quickly re-worded to rectify this.

"I mean, I don't have anything on other than classes, so it doesn't matter when you want me to come down for help with potions."

Harry reached out and picked an apple up off of the table, thinking about eating something after all while Snape considered this along with the rest of the table. He really liked apples. Especially the red ones and this one looked particularly good. He bit into the apple and decided yes, this was definitely a good apple.

"What about Quidditch practice?" Snape asked slowly, clearly confused. Surely the boy couldn't have forgotten about Quidditch, he was supposed to be ridiculously fanatic over the sport after all. Harry hummed slightly as he swallowed his bite of apple, clearly enjoying the taste, and then replied, still smacking his lips slightly, "Don't have it anymore."

Severus

Severus could swear he felt the first twinges of a headache coming on. He couldn't believe the idiocy of this brat!

"Potter, as much as I realize that you are ridiculously full of yourself, I think stopping to bother with having your team practice is going a bit beyond cocky, don't you? You're supposed to be the team captain and it's your duty to do everything you can to help your team be the best they can be, not selfishly use your authority to get out of practice-"

"I quit the team."

Potter took another bite. He seemed for all the world that this really wasn't a huge deal for him or the Slytherins around him. In fact he appeared to barely be paying attention; he was far more focused on eating his apple than anything else.

Draco

"What?"

The word slipped out of Draco's mouth before his brain had a chance to remind his lips that they were supposed to be set to "silent treatment" due to the utter disbelief that Potter's statement had instilled in him. This was some kind of bad joke, right?

Harry

Harry simply ignored Malfoy's question, or possibly didn't hear it, and instead chose to take the initiative with his conversation with Snape, since the man seemed to have forgotten the point in it anyway.

"How about on a Friday or Saturday then, if you're free and willing? That way, if I screw something up majorly I'll have enough time to clean it up without having to worry about how close to curfew it's getting, or any homework due the next day I'm supposed to be doing and stuff. Or even just for when I might have to do a potion that takes me a while to make in general I guess. I don't really mind at all though; it's up to you."

Snape was finally brought back to reality long enough to agree that, that sounded fine before stalking off, his usual frown fixed in place.

"Harry! I can't believe you've quit the Quidditch team! Why did you do that, you love Quidditch don't you? Is it because of that Quidditch injury? Was it really that bad? Will you be able to play again? Can you still do other things? What about–"

Harry laughed in amusement at Holly's steady stream of questions and placed his hand over Holly's mouth to try and stop her long enough to try and answer them, and hopefully move on to another topic as soon as possible as well.

"I can assure you that I have definitely quit the Quidditch team. Well, I told Ron and 'Mione that I'd have to quit the team and Ron blabbed to the rest of the tower, but I haven't officially told McGonagall the news yet. I intend to as soon as I can though."

Harry had planned to answer all of Holly's questions one after the other, but was prevented from doing so when more questions came at him. The first came from Holly; "You HAD to quit the team? So your injury really is that bad?"

The second came from Dawson, who looked confused; "The tower?"

"Em, no, I didn't mean I had to quit the team as in I had no choice. The tower is just what we call our main group of Gryffindors in general, because our living area is in a tower. Sorry, it never occurred to me that you wouldn't be used to the nickname. It just makes it easier to refer to 'the tower' instead of 'Ron, 'Mione, Dean, Neville, Parvati, Lavender, Seamus' etcetera when talking about us all."

"Ohhhhhhh! Is that why they don't look very happy with you? I can't imagine they'd be very pleased with you leaving the team."

Harry sighed at Holly's astute judgment of the slightly hostile vibe his table had been projecting at him earlier.

"You'd be right. They're NOT very pleased with me right now. Well, I'll admit I haven't had the courage to go and face the music yet but I'll probably get it in the neck when I get back to the tower. I can just hear Seamus now: 'I can't believe you'd do this to us Harry! You're practically handing the Slytherins the cup, do you want them to win this year?' Urgh. And to make it even worse, they probably won't stop bugging me about why I'm sitting at your table."

Draco

Draco let out a disbelieving snort.

"I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be courageous Potter, scared of your own lion cubs?"

Potter scowled at him.

"Nobody rattled your cage Malfoy, just do us all a favor and go back to pretending to eat your dinner."

Draco would have taken great pleasure in using this opportunity to jump into another battle of wits with Potter, but he was thrown off course by the fact that his enemy appeared to be rather unexpectedly observant. Millie looked just as disconcerted by the fact that Potter had apparently noticed their lack of interest in their meals. Had they really been so obvious about it?

No. This was Draco Malfoy. That just couldn't happen...Perhaps they would need to be more careful around Potter though. In retrospect it seemed like a rather foolish idea to take it for granted that Potter was completely oblivious.

What else could he have noticed?

Harry

Harry, satisfied with the lack of response from Malfoy, turned back to Holly while making a point of twisting his body in the chair so that he put as much of his back to Malfoy as possible without looking ridiculous.

"Anyway, as you were saying Harry."

"Right...Wait, what was I saying again?"

Draco

Scratch that. Potter was oblivious. His comment about pretending to be interested in dinner was either a complete lucky fluke at being observant, a random shot in the dark which happened to be true, or the Slytherins really had been shocked to the point of losing all sense of subtlety.

Harry

"So you really did choose to quit Quidditch then? Why would you do that? You're the team captain, and everyone knows you're important to the Gryffindor team. Everyone says you practice nearly all the time."

"I know, but–"

Harry, who had no idea of what would come next in the sentence he had begun, couldn't have been more relieved when the owls began streaming in through the open windows high up the walls of the hall.

Due to the times they were living in it was an extremely likely possibility that the students' and teachers' owls would be intercepted. In an attempt to prevent this, the times of the owl delivery had been changed from breakfast time to a random, constantly changing schedule. The students and the senders themselves didn't know when the owls would arrive, just that they would arrive during a meal time, and not at all on some days. This made it harder for people to predict when to take their chance and capture a poor owl to try and glean any information that could be useful to them from the animal's cargo.

Today the owl post was obviously being delivered during dinner, and Harry couldn't have asked for a better result himself when they effectively stole the students' attention. He glanced up at the whirls of feather and talon himself, trying to spot the familiar spark of snow amongst the streaks of brown and sure enough Hedwig soon broke through the throng to drop a newspaper on the table in front of him.

Harry smiled affectionately at the bird and let her hop onto his arm so that he could smooth her feathers while cooing words of praise and thanks.

"Wow Harry, your owl is so pretty! What's its name?"

"Her name's Hedwig. She's very friendly, too. She won't mind if you pet her. You can even feed her if you want?"

At Holly's beaming smile it was obvious she would love to and so he picked some scraps from the table in front of him and handed them to Holly. He then held out his arm to bring the bird closer to her and Holly began feeding Hedwig with one hand and stroking her head with the other.

Eventually the bird decided that its human contact quota had been filled to a satisfactory level and flew off without warning, clipping Holly's head with her wing as she passed.

"Hey! Her wing got me!" She yelped in surprise, causing Harry to snicker at the startled expression on her face.

"Don't worry. That means she likes you, she does the same to Ron and 'Mione all the time. If she really likes you she'll nibble on your finger or your ear depending on where she's sitting at the time. So far she's only ever done that with me though." Harry reassured, scanning the front page of his copy of The Daily Prophet.

Holly grinned with pride at Harry's owl liking her and turned to her own mail. She however, unlike Harry, skipped the front page of her own copy and had a quick flick through to get a vague idea of what the paper contained. She liked to wait until she had privacy in the evening to read it if it had a lot of topics she was interested in. If it seemed that the content wasn't anything she particularly cared about in much depth however, she would just skim read it at the dinner table. One article managed to catch her attention, and she paused in turning over the pages at a steady pace.

"Hey Harry, you're in the paper again."

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes.

"What are they saying now? Honestly, I can't believe people actually think this rag is worth anything. I mean, anyone with a shred of sense in their brain could logically deduce that half of the rubbish they print isn't true. Quite frankly, who cares how tall I've gotten, or whatever other completely random, insignificant and mostly false thing they seem to think is important to report on? I only get this thing so I can understand what on earth is going on when I get random students coming up and asking me if I was really accepted into a herd of centaurs as one of their own. Have you ever even met centaurs? That proposal is nothing short of ridiculous. One even asked me if I had 'mated' with one! Can you believe that?"

Holly giggled at Harry's rant and took note of the increasing number of people beginning to lean over in their seats in an effort to get a better view of him while he was occupied with reading the article Holly had pointed out. She too went to read it, wanting to know what the fuss was about.

Poor Potter Puts on the Pounds!

For a long time many of us have admired our favorite little hero for his strength and determination in the face of adversity. As we all know, it is not easy to stay positive under such terrible strains and pressure, and he manages it so easily where many would fall.

Or so we thought.

New evidence has come to light that paints a rather different picture and the truth it speaks is that our chosen savior is simply not coping. "What is this so-called evidence?" I hear you cry, but before I drop the bombshell I believe a little background knowledge would be appropriate.

Depression is a serious mental illness and it is common knowledge that, among other symptoms, changes in eating patterns are a common indicator. This can be either under-eating due to a lack of appetite and interest in food, or over-eating in a search for comfort.

One of our faithful readers (who wishes to remain anonymous) has managed to obtain and send to us a t-shirt belonging to none other than Harry Potter himself, as can be seen in the above picture. As you can no doubt see for yourself the garment is worryingly big at a staggering size 16 – 18 (extra-large).

Could The–Boy-Who-Lived be so depressed that he has to resort to food for comfort? One has to question how the poor young man's mental state has been allowed to deteriorate to such a shocking level that he has comfort-eaten his way to obesity.

This reporter only hopes that he is given the proper help he needs to recover from this, and I am sure the public will join me in supporting him every step of the way.

Well, that definitely explained why everyone was trying to get a good look at him; to judge for themselves how "fat" he really was and how he would react to the revelation that someone within the school must be acting as a spy for The Daily Prophet. Harry didn't appear to have noticed however as he was calmly folding his paper up.

Holly was worried about his reaction to finding out that someone had stolen his clothes and sent them to a reporter. After all, who else could get a hold of them except someone in Gryffindor? It was never a nice feeling to discover a knife in your back, especially when you don't know just who exactly it was that betrayed you and put it there in the first place. It would only cause paranoia and drive a wedge between people who had already built up a lot of trust.

"Harry, everyone's staring," she muttered unsurely.

"I know. They want a reaction, so I won't give them one. Look, Holly, I'm sorry but I'm going to have to skip making muffins with you tonight. I'll organize another time whenever I see you."

"That's okay, Harry, I understand."

"Thanks, Holly, you're a star."

Harry pecked Holly on the forehead in thanks, climbed out of his seat and unhurriedly swung his bag off of the floor and over his shoulders.

"I'll speak to you later but just now I need to have a few words with my house." He explained mildly at the question in Holly's eyes, though somehow the statement felt like the real emotion behind it was suppressed in Holly's ears.

"Bye."

"Bye, Harry!"

Holly waved at the sixth year as he stalked out of the hall. Boy was she glad she wasn't a Gryffindor. Who knew what drama would unfold between Harry and his housemates when he walked into that supposed tower.

TBC

A/N: Thanks for your patience. Feel free to shoot me a review if you have any questions.


	7. Chapter 7: Elisa

Diagnosis

A/N: And now I proudly present for you chapter seven of Diagnosis. I hope that it lives up to your expectations.

Disclaimer: I don't own the copyrights to the Potter universe, so please don't sue me.

Chapter 7: Elisa

..:..

Just as Harry was rounding the corner on the floor in the corridor where he had had his run-in with Bartemious Crouch JR. during his fourth year, Harry spotted Lavender Brown hot on his heels. The Boy-Who-Lived did his best to ignore the girl for he knew just what she wanted to talk about: the article that he and the rest of Hogwarts had saw only a few moments earlier.

Much to his dismay, Lavender grabbed ahold of his robe sleeve before he could make a break for it.

Deciding that he had more important things to do than try to evade Brown all evening, Harry turned around to look at her and said, "What is it Lavender?"

"Um, I was wondering if what the Daily Proffet reporter had said was true about you compensating for all of the grief you've suffered recently by overeating."

Harry glared daggers at the sixth year Gryffindor. His ordinarily long fuse had been shortened to a dangerously short length after what had transpired in the hospital wing earlier. "What?" asked Harry shortly.

"You see," gushed Lavender in that annoying way that only she could manage. "You don't look like you're putting on the pounds. Yes your clothes are rather large, but it looks like you're starting a new trend of Muggle fashion at Hogwarts, not like you have became addicted to eating like that bent of a reporter claimed. On the contrary, you could afford to eat an extra helping every now and again."

Harry sighed. His eating habits and such were none of the wizarding world's business, nor were they any of Lavender Browns for that matter. "I don't give a damn what the Daily Proffit thinks of my appearance. And for the record, if I want to become obese like my Uncle and cousin, it'd be my decision not theirs," stated Harry matter of factly.

"I wasn't criticizing," said Lavender hurriedly. "Merely curious. So who do you think gave them your shirt size? Do you reckon it might be one of your dorm mates? As horrable of a thought as that is, it'd have to have been someone who had ready access to your laundry right?"

Lavender had a valid point, the question was how was Harry going to confront them without coming off as overly confrontational.

Harry chuckled as an image of Winky popping in the sixth year boy's dorm room to steal his shirt to please which person she saw as her new master of the week came to mind. It wasn't really all that funny how devoted poor Winky was to Crouch even after he chucked her out during their fourth year for something his son did, nor would it be funny now, if she'd taken up with a new master to whom she could be blindly devoted to once more. Surely if she was the colpieret, though, Dobby would have informed him already; after all, Dobby clung like a leach to him, no matter how hard he protested the house elves assistance, Dobby clearly wasn't going anywhere any time soon. One suspect down, though this thought did little to comfort the Gryffindor because he still had a house full of suspects left to go.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" Harry said, changing the subject. He had made the tone of his voice slightly higher to please Lavender, and it had succeeded in getting her full focus. When she shook her head, Harry continued. "Do you have a thing for Ron?"

Lavender looked around before nodding and giggling. "He's just so cute and so funny too! I just wish he'd ask me out already. You know, I've seen him looking at me too, but that Hermione stops him I bet; it's no secret she's been pining after him for years. I mean seriously, if the feeling was mutual, she'd have asked him out all bloody ready." Harry secretly disagreed, but he was in desperate need for Ron's attention to be diverted from his best mates health if he was going to keep his cancer from him for much longer, and Lavender was the perfect distraction. Hermione on-the-otherhand wasn't so easily distracted. However, jealousy just might do the trick. Harry felt bad about manipulating his friend's emotionally like this, but needs must when the nun do is on the prowl. And when a witch as bright as Hermione cottoned onto something, she just wouldn't give it a rest, hence why he was talking to Lavender Brown.

You see normally he avoided her like the plague because of how she treated him like the quintessential gay bloke what with her incessant nattering on about fashion, boys, and her all-time favorite, "Who's Who" in Witch Weekly," which was widely known for it's embellishment of celebrities everyday lives, much like their Muggle counterparts who get their jolly's by making up lies about the rich and famous aka those who write for gossip rags and the various tabloids.

In short, Harry detested long chats with Lavender due to her giggly nature and because she always seemed to suspect his true sexuality if her conversations with him were anything to go by. She treated him like the stereotypical gay man; what many people are blind to is that not all of the gay community enjoys fashion, gossip, manicures and the like.

"Hmm, well I was reading a Muggle magazine the other day, and there was this article about getting a boyfriend," Harry lied; Lavender looked intrigued. "And do you know what it said the best thing to do was?"

"No, what? Go on, you have to tell me," Lavender begged, almost bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement.

"It said that guys like an independent girl, and that a girl who asks them out has the highest probability of getting a lasting relationship." Harry made all that up completely, of course, but Lavender bought it hook line and sinker.

"Really? I'll have to give that a try; thanks, Harry. I'm going to go get Parvati to help me do my hair for class tomorrow; that way I don't have to rush in the morning to make sure I look stunning for Ron. All I'll have to do is fix my makeup and I'll be ready to go," the girl sang before literally skipping away. Harry sighed exasperatedly. 'Their she goes again treating me like I'm just another one of the girls.' Mused Harry, not pleased in the slightest.

When Harry finally arrived at the portrait hole, the cacophony of noise that met his ears was deafening and made his burgeoning headache threaten to turn into a full-blown migraine. Why the population at Hogwarts seemed to eat right out of the hand of every reporter who wrote for papers with as disreputable reputations as the Proffit, Harry would never know. This irked him to no end. Now thanks to some up-start reporter's shoddy guesswork, Harry would be forced to listen to and deal with a two-fold argument about HIS life from his fellow Gryffindors.

Shoving his way through the throng of bodies Harry made his way to his favorite armchair, right by the hearth. That spot of the room was dubbed 'the trios' and rarely was their space infringed upon. If he was going to have to endure an interrogation by those whom he had considered friends, then he could at least be comfortable while he did it.

Strangely enough, as soon as Harry's rear had come in contact with the comfy chair, the room fell into an unnatural silence.

Feeling a little unnerved with the absence of excited and energetic voices that usually filled the common room, Harry said, "I'm sure you lot are just as curious as the rest of the school is as to why I'm no longer on the Quidditch team."

Harry glanced around the room for his friends. Ron Harry noticed with a bemused smile was sitting with Lavender on a divan. They were whispering back-and-forth amiably. Lavender clearly didn't waste any time after their chat of just a few moments ago. The nearly total silence was broken when Hermione, Neville and Ginny got up from where they were sitting previously and came to sit with their friend near the fire.

Harry was glad to have some moral support during the first part of two difficult conversations, though the latter part would only be between the Tower, because like Lavender had suggested, the person who had let slip to a reporter his hand me down shirt size had to have access to his laundry, before the house elves came to collect it every day.

"I heard you injured your shoulder during Quidditch practice," stated Neville. "What caused the fall from your broom?" At the mere mention of the spectacle that many a Gryffindor had witnessed murmurs of "What a near miss that was." and "Holey cricket! If I'd been in Potter's shoes I'd resign from Quidditch after something like that…" could be heard by all throughout the common room.

Harry winced internally, before using the first excuse that came to mind. He felt bad about lying to Neville, but now was not the best time to tell his closest friends and the House at large that he had cancer. "I was flying at double the recommended altitude for unprofessional flyers, and a bout of dizziness hit me. I misjudged where my broom was; fortunately two team members were their to catch me before I hit the ground at breakneck speed. And for the record I didn't resign as Gryffindor seeker by my own free will. I plan to get back on my broom and up in the air playing Quidditch just as soon as I'm cleared to fly again."

"What caused your vision to become distorted," inquired Hermione.

Harry thought fast and replied, "As you know, it's been a while since I had my eyes checked for a change in the prescription, the glasses that my relatives got me simply weren't cutting it. Poppy believes that the outdated prescription could've played a part in my fall." 'There, I didn't outright lie to my friend's face, I merely distorted the truth.' Thought Harry. Which if you stretched the truth to it's fullest extent was in part true. His vision had been affected by the brain tumor that had taken up residence in his brain without asking his permission first. Though the fall had been more from his worsening vision which couldn't be helped as far as Harry knew, but they hadn't asked why his prescription was no longer adequate now had they?

Harry was sure that Hermione would put the pieces together sooner than later, but that wasn't today and that's all he cared about for the time being.

"What does this mean for the team," asked Ginny from nearby.

"Ron and I talked it over and we are still debating on what the best course of action should be."

"What's that supposed to mean," asked Katie Bell.

"Since you're the senior member on the team, the final decision is up to you, but what Ron and I have come up with, we feel that it's better to have Ginny play seeker."

"Bah," articulated one diehard Quidditch fanatic. "Then we'll be entirely reliant upon her to catch the snitch, if we're going to bring Gryffindor to victory this year!"

Ginny blushed scarlet at the implication that she had been less of a seeker than Harry last year. She had done a steller job in her humble opinion; maybe she didn't knock the socks off of Slytherin, but she had given it her best shot.

"Chill out," said Katie calmly trying to keep the piece. "This means that we'll have to have Quidditch try-outs again to find a replacement chaser, but we'll manage. It'll take a lot of time and commitment on the team as a whole if we're going to pull this off, but I have full faith in our House as a whole. Gryfindors are supposed to have courage. Now let's show the rest of the school how we can recover from the blow that Harry's absence causes the team in general, and find someone who's willing and ready to learn new maneuvers and flying strategies in a hurry so that we can crush Slytherin!"

"Thanks for the inspiring words," said Harry kindly. "She's right you lot. Since when has Gryffindor put their heads in the sand and given up just because we had a hard time of it. Yes I'm grounded for the time being, but that doesn't mean that I won't be around to give advice where it's warranted." Harry was permanently grounded for the time being, but they didn't need to hear more bad news just yet. And with any luck, what Healer Robertson had to say the day after tomorrow would be good news instead of just more gloom and doom.

"Are their any more questions about my temporary Quidditch ban," asked Harry, hoping that it would only be a temporary thing and that he'd have this cancers arse kicked into remission in no time. Poppy hadn't talked to him about remission and the possibility of reoccurrences happening later down the road, mainly because her knowledge of cancer and it's intricacies were largely a mystery to her, however, he had watched a show about it on the telly one day when his relatives went out for lunch.

Pulled out of his maudlin thoughts by Hermione tapping him on the shoulder Harry asked irritably, "What?"

"Don't get snappy with me," said his friend. "I just wanted to congratulate you on avoiding the Spanish inquisition that this conversation could've become. I don't know how you managed to put a halt to it before it began, but more power to you. All the Quidditch talk was about to send me into a catatonic state," joked Hermione.

"Yeah," chipped in Neville. "I thought that once you opened the floor for more questions that they would never stop."

Harry looked up in astonishment to find the common room practically vacated by most of the inhabitants of Gryffindor. "Where did everyone go," asked Harry in surprise.

"I reckon they decided that now was the perfect time to go to the library to do some studying," said Ron sarcastically, who now stood behind Harry with Lavender in toe.

Harry highly doubted that a vast majority of the House suddenly had a sudden hankering to study for classes, it was ten times more likely that they had decided to take their gossip somewhere else, which was fine and dandy with him.

"Nah," said Harry. "It's more likely that they're holed up somewhere talking about who will take Ginny's spot and about that preposterous article about my tendency to overeat."

"Who cares if they are," said Neville. "It doesn't matter what most of the school has to say about you mate."

"They're always nattering on about something concerning you," said Ron." Whether it's you being the heir of Slytherin who possesses snakes to do their bidding, or about who you might be dating, it really doesn't matter what they think. They aren't the ones who will be there for you when you need it most."

Ordinarily Hermione would be the first to agree with Ron on the rare occasion that he was right, but apparently he had someone more important in his life these days that could do that for him, if Ron and Lavender's close proximity to one another was anything to go by.

"I've got some charms homework to be getting on with," said Hermione. Harry wondered if this was the perfect excuse she needed to get away from her friend and his new girl. For it was obvious for all of Hogwarts except for Lavender–because she had the hots for him, and Ron himself-because he was in denial and afraid how such a relationship could potentially damage such a good friendship as the one that Hermione and he shared, that Ron and Hermione had always had a thing for each other. The trouble was that they were both to blind to see what was right in front of their faces.

Covering up for his friend's obvious lie, Harry said, "Damn! I totally forgot about that charms essay. When is it due again?"

"By next class," supplied Neville. He was the ever-helpful friend, the one who remained oblivious to the fact that neither of them had been slackers and neglected their homework.

Playing along Harry replied, "Thanks Nev. The Tower needs to have a meeting in ten."

Fortunately for Harry, he had caught Dean before the youth could flee to the library; clearly not everyone had completed said assignment, if Dean's facial expression was anything to go by.

..:..:..

Ten minutes later found Harry and Ron sitting on Ron's bed side by side. Neville was sitting on his four-poster with a herbology book cracked open. And Dean and Seamus were sitting atop Dean's bed. Harry could only distinguish the two best friends sleeping quarters by the pile of dirty socks that were wedged under Seamus's bed. Out of the two, Dean was the neat freak.

Harry cleared his throat ominously and began, "As you're all already aware, when the post arrived at dinner this evening, the Great Hall held it's collective breath as we all read as one, yet another blasted article about my supposed life. First off, I'd like to state quite clearly that the article is wrong, as they usually are. None of those reporters who claim to have an inside scoop about my life are dead wrong in their publications. They should really do their homework before they go shouting off their arses about who I'm supposed to be shagging, or how I'm putting on the pounds. If the reporter who wrote that poor excuse of an article had taken the time to interview me in person then they'd have seen for themselves that I'm nott in a large, much less an extra-large."

"Too right," agreed Ron loyally.

"The very idea is laughable," said Neville who has always been a bit on the chunky side until this summer when his "baby fat" had turned into masculinity. "And besides, how much or how little you weigh has no bearing on your true personality. Malfoy for instance is average and he can be a right git at times. And Mandy Brockleherst has a big build and she's as nice as they come. No matter what the stereotype is about skinnier people being more attractive it's a bunch of hogwash anyways."

"What do you mean bout their being a stereotype like that," asked Ron truly puzzled.

"In the Muggle world you see commercials, which are just advertisements for products that are for sell, on the telly that show mottles in them. You rarely see a larger person in a commercial about shampoo," explained Harry.

"But we're getting off topic," said Harry. "I don't have all night to talk to you about the telly and explain how it works; just ask Dean he'll know the answer."

"What exactly do we need to talk about," asked Neville curiously.

"For one thing, I want to sus out who sold my shirt size to some up-start reporter. I don't appreciate it in the slightest. You lot especially should know by now how much I value my privacy."

"Why exactly would I tell some reporter something so trivial, "asked Neville innocently.

"For the money," replied Ron. "Any news that has the slightest probability of being true concerning our resident savior (Ron made air quotes with his fingers) is big news and big news equals higher sells of the newspaper and that leads to more money being made."

Harry paid close attention to everyone's facial expressions as Ron said that last statement so that he could gage their reactions to the idea of selling his stuff to a reporter to gain a few galleons; which would in theory give the Gryffindor some insight as to who the perpetrator was.

Dean looked shocked that anyone would stoop so low as to snatch a friends shabby T-shirt for something so petti. Neville had a scowl on his face at the audacity of someone who would do such to a mate like that. In typical Ron fashon, the youngest Weasley son looked slightly jealous at the fact of someone else having more in the way of finances than himself, however, he didn't look guilty, and Harry could read his friend like an open book. On the contrary, Seamus's face reddened in shame and the Irish bloke averted his eyes from Harry.

Harry didn't want to be accused of making wrongful accusations so he decided to handle matters in a diplomatic manner and interrogate everyone separately. That way, Seamus, or anybody else for that matter, couldn't say that Harry was incorrect about them having a serious case of diarrhea of the mouth when it came to things concerning the 'chosen one.'

Now how was he supposed to propose the planned interrogation of each of them to his dorm mates? For he was sure that they had things that they'd rather be doing on a Wednesday evening than answering questions that for most of them were entirely baseless.

But he couldn't appear to show favoritism to his friends and leave Neville and Ron out of the private chats lest the whole of Hogwarts hear that Harry can't play fair when it comes to matters concerning his friends.

Deciding to just get it over with all bloody ready, Harry began awkwardly, "Erm, would you mind if I asked you all some questions in private in order to ascertain who stole my shirt?"

After receiving four nods in unison, Harry pointed at Ron first; he wanted to get the farce of an interview over with his best mate. He never guessed just how far off topic these little sessions with the Tower would've gotten, or he would've probably given it up for a bad job pronto.

After the three boys had left their dorm room for the common room, Harry shut the door, locked it with a colloportuss, which caused an odd squelching noise as the door was sealed, and to make sure that the details of every one of his friends conversations remained confidential, he cast a silencing charm on the door just in case.

Harry placed his wand back in the front pocket of his jeans. Then Ron said in jest, "Oh dear dear Mr. Potter, I see that you haven't been practicing elementary wand safety…you wouldn't want to accidentally hex off your bits…if you did then the Potter family line would cease to exist and you ought not give Malfoy that supreme pleasure to lord over your head for all eternity."

Harry socked his friend on the shoulder and retorted. "Shut it you, the Mad-Eye persona just doesn't suit you at all. Besides, I'd wager that half of Hogwarts students stow their wand away in their back pockets without a second thought. Well at least mines only in my front pants pocket and under my robes to boot."

What Ron didn't know was that Harry intended to stop by Diagon Alley to get a wand holster at the next opportunity he got. The wizarding world was now at war and he could hardly afford the time during the heat of battle to reach underneath his robes and into his jeans pocket to get his wand. Voldemort or any of the other death eaters really would've hit him with an AK before he had the chance to fire off a spell at that rate.

"I have to ask you, though I'm quite sure you didn't, did you sell Dudley's shirt to the reporter at the Prophet just to gain some much needed cash?"

"Nah, mate. You already know that I'm over that whole business of being jealous of you for your unwanted fame and money." Harry had his doubts about his friend being entirely over it, but he was certain that his friend would never betray him like that.

"But I do have my suspicion as to who might've done it," supplied Ron helpfully.

Trying to get a feel of the waters Harry asked, "Really, who?"

"This stays just between the two of us right mate?"

"Of course mate," said Harry.

"I believe that Seamus did it. After what I caught him saying too you at the beginning of last year when the Daily Prophet was still insisting that Dumbledore and you were crack pots…he never really seemed to regret his words to you, nor did he seem to change his tune after the Prophet rescinded their false accusations about you being a rotten liar and Professor Dumbledore being off his rocker."

Harry was suitably impressed by all of the new vocabulary Ron was apparently picking up from somewhere. It was funny how he noticed the little things about his friend's maturity or in some cases lack thereof after his cancer diagnosis.

"Yeah, I kind of got the feeling that Seamus was jealous of Dean when he got on the team and he didn't," agreed Harry. "Now unfortunately for us, we'll probably have to try the catch 'em with honey approach, since he's the only other half-decent player who tried out, but needs must when a nun do comes and burns down the door and leaves you with no other available options."

"So Harry," asked Ron in a nonchalant tone, hoping to gain a proper answer from his friend this time. "Why did you really fall from your broomstick?"

"I told you, it was from a myriad of factors, lack of sleep, dehydration, and a headache," lyed Harry, the only part of that statement that was true was the whole headache angle. He had debated on just coming clean with his best friend about having cancer and all of the relevant details, but Ron would have no idea what cancer was and then he would go ask Hermione, who would consequently flip out. No now definitely wasn't the time.

Having no idea that he avoided the bomb shell that Harry had almost dropped on him by the skin of his teeth Ron asked, "You're still going to be the team captain right? Poppy forbade you from flying, not attending all Quidditch functions."

"If the DA doesn't consume all of my time, then sure. I'm not going to leave you lot out to dry like that. Though, any Quidditch strategies and assistance you can give me when I'm unavailable to show up would be greatly appreciated." Ron was clueless just how often that might be. He had basically asked his friend to be the co-captain, which was a first in Hogwarts history if Harry wasn't mistaken, though he was sure that 'Mione would know the answer to that if he ever cared to ask her.

Ron's face lit up at that.

"Holey mother of Merlin! You want me to help us bring Gryffindor to victory?"

"You betcha."

"I reckon it'd be best to bring it up with Professor McGonagall before we make it official though," said Ron looking downtrodden at the prospect of her declining their proposition.

"Don't you worry Ron," reassured Harry somewhat morbidly because he knew that Poppy or he intended to inform his Head of House about is brain tumor soon, just in case something went wrong. After hearing that her star seeker had a serious muggle illness that might incapacitate him indefinitely, Harry was quite certain that she couldn't refuse his request. "Professor McGonagall is the one who appointed me as Gryffindor's seeker when we were tiny little firstys after that stunt that Malfoy pulled during our first flying lesson after all." The rest of their conversation consisted of fond remembrances until Harry saw fit to put an end to their chatting until he had finished the unpleasant task before him.

Unlocking the door and canceling the ceiling spell on it with a squelching sound, Harry waited for the tell-tale sounds of Ron's shoes thudding against the treads of the staircase.

He knew that his best mate had made it down the stairs when a shrill cry of "Won-Won! Their you are!," met his ears. Ye Gods! He had only told Lavender that cock-an-bull story right before they got back to the Tower, and it sounded like they were already in the first stages of romance, where friendship shifts into something more. If Hermione had been within hearing range, Lavender would no doubt be taking an unplanned vacation to the hospital wing for a weeklong stay, because Hermione had hexed her with something practically unheard of.

The next victim to enter their dorm was Dean. Harry proceeded to grill him mercifully in hopes of ascertaining whether Dean had either been the shirt bandit or knew who it was. Harry was to be sorely disheartened, because Dean either didn't know who it was or wasn't going to snitch on a mate like that. Their conversation shifted from uncomfortable territory to even less uncomfortable territory when the youth slowly and rather subtly changed the conversation to relationships. Who did they think he was this evening? A bloody weird sod sitting in an office across from a red couch where they could just come in, plop down, and tell him all of their problems?

Harry really REALLY really couldn't be bothered with such trivial matters as Dean's newly found feelings for Seamus. He had never liked the Irish bloke and it wasn't a closely held secret after how he had treated Harry that time when Ron had been forced to intervene. But Harry having found it hard to "come out" to someone that day in Pomfrey's office, wasn't apathetic to his situation, so he provided a listening ear, when all he really wanted right now was for someone his own age to be there for him who understood what he was going through without any explanation, not the other way around.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when Dean thanked him for hearing him out and for tolerating his 'silly proclamations of love' for his best friend, which was his wordage, not Harry's.

Harry enthusiastically unlocked the door this time and lifted the silencing charm calling down the stairs, "Nev, could you come here please?"

A jovial Neville Longbottom entered their dorm room and plopped down on his bed in a carefree manner.

With a flourish of the wand, Harry secured the room for the third time in one evening.

"While I was waiting to talk to you, I overheard Ron and Lavender chatting each other up, and let me tell you, the sight was something that I'd rather have not been present for." Neville stated firmly. "I can only imagine how Hermione will take the news that Ron has his eye on another girl."

With a wicked grin, Harry said, "Um you see, Ron and Lavender getting together was kind of my Frankinstinean creation."

"Why did you egg her on for Harry?"

"Dunno. She wouldn't leave me alone, and I noticed that she'd been after Ron for some time, and I wanted to get her off my back so…voilà."

"Hermione would cut off your head and spit it on a stake, then post it on the castle gates if she ever found out," said Neville.

"It's a good thing that you won't ever tell her now isn't it?"

"Uh huh. I'm certainly not going to be the messenger of that particular bomb shell."

"So who's your bet for the theft of my ratty old shirt?"

"I'm not going to throw stones, because I'm sure that you've already figured that out for yourself."

"The clothes aren't even mine. They're my fat pig of a cousin's. I'm forced to wear his hand-me-downs because my relatives claim that they can't afford anything else."

"That's bull shit! They've been your guardians since your parents demise at the hands of you-know-who?"

"Yeah if you want to call them that," said Harry waving his hand dismissively.

"Then they receive a stipend for your care."

Harry fumed. "You mean to tell me that every time they told me that they didn't have enough money to get me new clothes, or to buy extra food to provide me three square meals a day was a lie." It was a rhetorical question.

"Why didn't you tell the Headmaster about their treatment of you?"

"I tried, he blew it off every time and swore that the blood wards would protect me from Voldemort and that was all that mattered."

"That's preposterous! He knowingly exposed you to their neglect and possible abuse on a regular basis! He's unfit to teach at any institution that governs children. If you ever wish to take affirmative action against him, just let me know and I will inform my gran about his neglect. If you choose to do this though, understand that legal action will be a likely consequence."

Harry shook his head saying, "I have no desire for my home life to be splashed on the front page of the Proffet, and pursuing legal action would mean that details of my home life, which I don't wish to discuss further with you, would be known by everyone! And Poppy told the Headmaster about what went on, and he didn't do anything to fix it. For the longest time, I thought that she didn't care what happened to me every summer when she saw the evidence of their mistreatment of me. She recently told me that she did all she could and I'm grateful for her help. Now you know why I don't trust the Headmaster, but it's imperative that he doesn't find out."

After listening to Harry's story, Neville felt obligated to share his; he had no idea that in the doing he would prompt yet another story to spill from his friend's lips.

"You remember me telling you about my Great Uncle Algie–who dropped me out of a second story window to see if my magic had manifested yet?"

"Uh huh."

"Turns out that he and his wife, Enif had a daughter named Elisa. My Great Uncle Algie always cared for me in his own way, and I've come to realize that he cares for Elisa too."

"And how's that?"

"First you need to know a bit of background information…Enif and Algie thought for the longest time that they could have no children, but nine years ago, they had a lovely daughter named Elisa. They did their best to protect her from everything; after what happened to m-my parents, they hid her away from the world out of fear. I finally met her over the summer hols. Like most wizarding children before Hogwarts she was home schooled. When we met for the first time, Great Uncle Algie had told us that she'd been rather sickly. She was only nine…and she didn't deserve what happened to her. You see, wizarding children are ordinarily very healthy, so you understand why her parents were on edge as to her state. They took her to St. Mongo's for testing. And her care was turned over to a healer Robertson."

Harry knew he recognized that name from somewhere, but where?

"The news came as a great shock to us all, especially those in the family who knew her most when she was diagnosed with muggle cancer."

Harry's face fell.

"What type," asked Harry kindly. "Can they treat her?"

"She's got AML; it's some kind of blood cancer. And the only treatment that's available in the wizarding world is a rare potion that children under the age of twelve can't take, so she was forced to undergo muggle treatment. Great Uncle Algie says that she's been given several treatments of a poison called chemo therapy. The healer warned her parents that the chemo can cause Elisa to lose her magic."

Trying to seem merely curious Harry asked, "What about radiation? It's an alternative form of treatment that the muggles use…"

"Nah, it doesn't pose the same threat to wizards according to the healer. He said something about the chemo destroying a wizards magic like it does healthy cells since it can't differentiate between good and bad cells nor a wizards magic."

The lightbolb flicked on in Harry's mind. So this was why he was a candidate for the potion but this mysterious cousin of Neville's wasn't. It made perfect sense why radiation therapy had been mentioned to him, but not chemo therapy.

"I'm sorry to hear about your cousin," said Harry sincerely. "How long does she have?"

"The healer and her muggle doctors say that she's got a high chance for survival if her cancer goes into remission."

"That's a good sign then," stated Harry trying to be optimistic.

"Nev," said Harry hesitantly. "Can I tell you something?"

"I don't know, can you," said Neville cheekily.

"You can't tell Ron or Hermione about it though." Neville wondered what was so serious that he didn't even want his closest friends to know.

"You can always count on me," said Neville "My lips are sealed." Neville made as if to zip his lips.

Harry took in a deep breath, the better to prepare himself.

"When I fell off my broom, it wasn't just a fluke, nor was it a freak accident."

"I figured that one out for myself. Contrary to what you told Gryffindor tonight, you're too good of a flyer for that to be the case."

"I've been having severe migraines since the beginning of term, when they didn't lessen up, I went to Madame Pomfrey. She ran some tests…and they revealed that I have a brain tumor…" There he had finally done it, finally told one of his friends that he had cancer.

Neville gaped like a fish. Now Harry's question about the treatment of Elisa made so much more sense.

"Is it treatable?"

"Madame Pomfrey has set me up with a healer…oddly enough, I think that it's the very same healer who's treating your cousin. But they'll have to do muggle scans to see if the tumor will respond to the treatments."

"You won't be given chemo, will you," asked Neville nervously. Surely they wouldn't give the boy-who-lived something that might make him a squib.

"Do you know a lot about the potion that they can use for treatment in people my age," asked Harry.

"Only that it's extremely risky, but has been shown to be successful without the risk of squibhood." Neville refrained from telling Harry however, that the potion cocktail was still very experimental, because cancer normally wasn't found in wizards and witches over the age of twelve. Which was why the standard of care for people under the age of twelve was one that had less than desirable side-affects.

Harry was glad that Neville didn't freak out; his friend just seemed to get it without Harry needing to explain things to him.

"When are you meeting with healer Robertson? I don't want you to have to go without a friend by your side."

"On Friday after transfigurations."

"In the hospital wing?"

"Yeah. But you don't have too…"

"I want too. No one should have to go through that process of diagnosis and treatment alone."

"I won't be alone. I've got Poppy."

"I mean a friend your own age," clarrifyed Neville.

"If you really want to come then who am I to stop you," said Harry who was unused to having someone willingly stick by his side without freaking out like Ron or Hermione.

"But I'm curious, why did you choose to confide in me and not Ron or Hermione?"

"Because Hermione would want to study me like I'm some sort of science experiment and Ron would just be clueless as to what cancer is and then I'd have to explain it all to him. I'm just not ready to deal with either outcome yet."

"I understand, but don't wait too long to tell them, because if they find it out when everyone else does they'll be crushed."

"I know," sighed Harry.

"You up for a game of exploding snap after you're done interrogating Seamus?"

"You betcha! But I have to go and talk to Professor McGonagall about something else first."

It was a testament as to how much Harry trusted Neville that he didn't feel the need to ask his friend to swear a magical oath of any kind not to tell.

"I'll see you in a few mate," said Neville as he exited the room once Harry had lifted the prerequisite spell on the door.

Seamus trudged up the stairs with a look of utmost dread on his face, and looked like he might faint when Harry closed the door behind him.

"So Seamus, why did you do something as petty as sell a scruffy old shirt of mine to a reporter?"

"I-who said I did anything?"

"It's no secret that you haven't gotten on with me ever since the Proffet started spouting lies about the Headmaster and I at the beginning of last year. Apparently Ron's deduction of points last year and dressing down of you did no good. Perhaps I should let it be known to Professor McGonagall that you've been pilfering things from people's trunks eh."

"T-that won't be necessary," confessed the sandy haired boy. "You're right. I did it; you turned me down for the team and allowed Dean to join. I wanted you to suffer for that," Harry honestly didn't see what Dean saw in Seamus.

"You would do something without thinking about the consequences…"

"What consequences? I told you because what can an ordinary sixth year like yourself do about it? Go running to your mummy and daddy about it? Oh that's right, your parents haven't been around since you-know-who killed them."

Harry tried to hide how much the Irish boy's words hurt.

Pointing his wand at the Irish boy, Harry threatened, "How dare you! If I ever catch you selling information or personal items of mine to the public for prophit again, I'll sue you for liable. I'll have you know that I'm going to have Hermione cast wards on my trunk and belongings to prevent my things from walking off in the future. And you're not welcome at the DA meetings anymore. It's clear that you can't be trusted. Do you still have the counterfeit galleon that Hermione passed out last term?"

Seamus rummaged through his trunk, tossing clothes, books, and what looked suspiciously like a dirty magazine helter-skelter on the floor. Harry watched as the sandy haired youth found the galleon and flung it at Harry, it made a clanging sound as it bounced off of the bedstead and onto the floor.

"You can have your sodding galleon. And I can learn to defend myself without your help," said Seamus snootily.

..:..

Once Harry's temper had time to cool down, he went to his trunk to grab his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map from his trunk. He knew that it was close to curfew but he really wanted to have that talk with Professor McGonagall now rather than later. And after he had told her the serious news, he was sure she'd be understanding about the late hour of the discussion.

The Gryffindor hadn't yet figured out rather or not to give her the full explanation or not. On one hand, she was his Head of House, but on the other, he didn't want word of his cancer to get to the Headmaster. He was almost certain that Professor McGonagall wouldn't tell anyone, but could he be absolutely certain?

He made his way unseen down the stairs of the sixth year's dormatory, through the commonroom and out the portraithole. He continued down the corridors and down the multiple staircases towards McGonagall's courters. Along the way, he had to go through several secret passageways in order to avoid Filch and Misses Norris.

Reaching his destination at long last, Harry took off the Invisibility Cloak, wiped the Marauder's Map clean and stowed both Items in his robe pocket. He knocked loudly on the door.

"Yes," came a voice from inside the office. "Who is it?"

"It's Harry Professor McGonagall," came Harry's reply. "I need to talk to you. Err is that alright Professor?"

"Yes of course," she said opening the door for her young lion. "My door is always opened to those in need."

"Err thanks ma'am."

"So what brings you to my office at this late hour?"

"Madame Pomfrey and I needed to talk to you about something."

"Then where praytell is Poppy," asked the Scottish woman curtly.

"She's coming by whenever she's got the time. You see, she's been really busy mainly concerning me mad'am."

"Oh really? Are you unwell," asked mcGonagall peering closely at Harry.

"Erm, I don't really know how to put this gently so I'll just go ahead and tell you outright," said a flustered Harry. "I can't play Quidditch for Gryffindor anymore."

"Why on earth not?"

Harry gulped nervously. Originally you see, he had planned on letting Poppy do the hard explanations like of his cancer and the like, but he decided that this was the right time to tell her. Delaying the discussion and waiting on Madam Pomfrey to tell her about the cancer would only upset his Head of House further.

Many people might wonder why in fact Harry had told her at all, since Poppy had agreed to take on the horrible burden; the answer was a really simple one: he didn't want someone to have to break his news for him. He loved Poppy dearly but knew with all certainty that she would be relieved not to have to do this. He would send her a note at breakfast in the morning telling her that he had already told McGonagall he decided.

"I guess it started a few weeks ago with seveer migrane headaches," started Harry. "Poppy did some scans and found a brain tumor. Potions were ordered for me for the pain and I was diagnosed with brain cancer."

McGonagall looked startled.

"But I thought that wizards your age don't usually get cancer."

"They don't, I guess I'm a rare case. That's so typical of my life that it isn't funny. I have to ask though, do you know what cancer is? Neville told me that most wizards and witches don't know about it."

"They don't, he's right. But a friend of mine got it when she was young, before she started Hogwarts. She didn't make it to eleven though I regret to inform you."

"Then how were you two friends?"

"We met before I went to school. I'm really sorry to hear that you have cancer Mr. Potter. Is their any treatment available for you?"

"Maybe. Poppy has convinced me to talk to a cancer specialist on Friday. I suspect I'll know more then."

"Alright. I want you to know that if there's anything that I can do for you all you have to do is let me know and I'll do it."

"Yes Ma'm. I do have one more question to ask you. I was wondering if Ron could be my coe-captain. He's already agreed to do it if that's okay with you."

"Yes of course…I guess you'll need a coe-captain once the treatments start right?"

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking."

"Alright. I'll conjur up a coe-captain's badge and give it to him after transfiguration on Friday. Does that sound good?"

"Yes Professor. You don't know how much this means to me."

McGonagall chuckled. Ah youth these days.

"I meant to ask you earlier, but what precipitated your quitting the team?"

"I had a bit of a Quidditch accident one day during practice. My vision went all weird and Madame Pomfrey checked me out real good and finding nothing wrong, she told me that I had double vision due to my cancer worsening and that I'd have to quit the team."

"I'm really sorry to hear that," said the Professor for the second time that evening.

"I don't mean to rush you Mr. Potter, but I think that it's time for bed."

"Yes ma'm. See you in transfiguration."

..:..:..

That night Harry had one of his worst nightmares since the summer. He was in the department of mysteries standing by the veil, Sirius was there shouting at him, reminding him that it was his fault he died, then James appeared, shouting at Harry that he had died to save him and how did he repay him? By contracting some muggle disease that would cause him to become as weak as a flobber worm, making him a sitting duck for Voldemort, which would inevitably synch his fate; that Tom would be the victor and Harry both the victim of a megalomaniac and of cancer! Then Lily joined him, telling him that she had never wanted him, that she had been glad to have died, to get away from him, that the only reason he lived was so that none of the people He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had killed would have to put up with him in the afterlife. Cedric was there too, telling Harry that if he hadn't of insisted that they take the cup together he would still be alive, that it was Harry's fault he was dead. Cho came and backed him up. In the back ground of the dream he could hear Trelawney's voice repeating the prophecy over and over again. He could see Ron walking away from him when he found out, Hermione leaving him. Neville being jealous, Harry always got the limelight. Then Neville's parents appeared, screaming that it was his fault, his fault that they suffered a fate worse than death, the Death Eaters had tortured them because of him. Sevrus finding out about his cancer and refusing to brew the potions that Neville had hinted earlier that only someone as skilled as he could brew, then spreading the news to all sundry.

Harry was shaken awake by Neville. He could feel his throat burning, he needed water, but that required him to leaver himself upright and at the moment his whole head was throbbing in time with his heartbeat, which was the icing on the cake to the burning in his throat. He was sweating. "Harry?" said Neville panicking which was perfectly understandable after hearing of his friend's cancer. "Are you OK?" Harry nodded, he wasn't but there was nothing anyone could do about it.

In a voice scratchy from his screams, Harry asked, "Can you hand me the water pitcher and a goblet?"

Deciding that his friend's present state called for some compassion Neville did more than hand him the requested items: he poured the water for his friend and handed it to him. "Do you want to talk about it mate," asked Neville hesitantly.

"Not yet," said Harry. "I'm not ready to think about it much less talk about it, but let's just say that some of the hellish nightmare stemmed from what I confided in you earlier." Neville gave him a sympathetic look but didn't respond, waiting for his friend to continue, or not, as he wished.

When several minutes had elapsed, Neville tried to reassure him by saying, "You just have to remember, nightmares aren't real. Even the ones that are memories are just that, memories. They're the past. Not the present. Not the future. You can't let them bother you. Or let them hurt you like this one must've."

"Thanks Nev," said Harry faking a yawn. He doubted that he'd be able to fall back to sleep after such a vivid nightmare, combined with his throbbing head, in fact, he would be lucky to keep up the facade of slumber long enough for his friend to fall back asleep, before he went in search of his pain potion, which was somewhere in his trunk. He vowed from now on to keep any potions or muggle prescriptions in the drawer of his nightstand.

..:..:..

After breakfast on Friday, they had the misfortune to encounter Malfoy and his group of sycophants which ended at the exchange of insults instead of hexes. As tempting as it was to throw a boil curse at Malfoy's face, Harry knew he'd end up in detention for the rest of his life if anything happened to Slytherin's resident pretty boy.

"Shut it, Malfoy. C'mon, Ron, we're going to be late." Dragging Ron by the collar, Harry started for the Transfiguration classroom, ignoring the taunts of the other sixth-year Slytherins.

"They're up to something," he said as they headed towards the Transfiguration classroom. "Not just Malfoy. The whole lot of them."

"Let it go, mate," Ron replied. "Either snog him or forget about him. Seriously, he's all you talk about these days."

"Eww." Harry scrunched up his nose. The mere thought of having anything to do with Malfoy that way was bad enough. Just breathing the same air was enough to make his skin crawl. "You saw what happened at breakfast when the mail arrived and Hogwarts read that article about Malfoy's untimely release from Azkaban. Bet he paid off the Minister and donated loads of money to the war efforts or a disaster fund in order to buy his release. Even Dumbledore looked less…erm…" Harry fished for a word.

"Twinkly?" Ron suggested. "Well, most of that lot aren't happy with what happened at the Ministry," he continued as they walked into the classroom. "I mean Malfoy, Crabbe, and Nott were all tossed in Azkaban. Well, their fathers at any rate, 'cept Malfoy's is out, naturally. They want to get even, mate. Think any of them would let an opportunity to get off a good curse go by. After the whole school read about their death muncher daddy's being imprisoned, while Lucky Lucy Lucius walked after gold exchanged hands?" He slipped into the seat next to Lavender and began gathering up parchment and quill for today's lesson.

"Still on about the Slytherins, Harry? Or is it Malfoy—again?" Hermione asked as she arranged everything on her desk to her satisfaction.

"You too, Hermione?" Harry sighed. "Look, I know him, alright? He's been different this year, he's been different, strangely talkative, it's eerie. He's up to something and he's got the rest of his House in on it as well. For Merlin's sake, he's been following me around like a lost puppy. The other day for instance, when I stayed in the hospital wing an extra night per Poppy's request," lied Harry smoothly (about it being Poppy's idea anyways). "Malfoy just happened rather coincidentally to get burnt by his less than average friends winding up in the infirmary at the perfect moment. If that isn't suspicious then I don't know what is."

"This is all because he's taken a keen interest in your activities this term," Hermione declared in a huff. "Just get over—" She stopped abruptly as Professor McGonagall brought the class to order.

"Today, we'll be talking about the animagus transformation. Do any of you know the difference between a werewolf and an animagus?"

"A werewolf is forced to assume his or her state on every full moon unwillingly. They have no choice. Whereas an animagus chooses to make the change willingly," said Hermione as eager as usual to provide an answer when given the opportunity.

"Correct Ms. Granger. Five points to Miss Granger for the correct answer.

"Can anyone give me an example of some of the animals that one might change into as an animagus?"

Harry's hand shot into the air. He was eager to respond mainly because he wanted to tell his fellow students as much about a subject that his father had studyed while in school as anything.

"A stag."

"That's one example Mr. Potter. You can assume any species of animals as an animagus. Throughout the centuries their have only been a handfull of registered anamagi. Becoming an animagus is not an easy task."

"Why do people have to register," asked Seamus.

"The Ministry finds it prudent for witches and wizards to register their animagus form with the Ministry just in case they ever need to call upon a registered witch or wizard either for information about an event seen while the person is in their animagus form or in case any crime is perputrated by said animagus. Not all witches or wizards have registered their forms with the Ministry because they do not believe that said information should be given to those currently in power. I'm afraid to inform you that their remains only seven people registered as anamagi at the present time."

The class listened eager to hear more about what their transfiguration professor had to say about the subject.

"I don't want to disappoint any of you, but I must inform you that you can not transfigure into a magical creature unless you are extremely powerful. And by extremely powerful, I mean that your magical capabilities are on par with Professor Albus Dumbledore."

"Is the headmaster an animagus," asked Harry curiously. "And if so, what animal can he become?"

"He is. His registered form is that of a phoenix," said Professor McGonagall looking at Harry sadly. Ever since their talk last night, the professor had a look of defeat on her face when around him. Harry knew that it would take some time for her to adjust to the news that he had burdened her with.

"Becoming an animagus of any form is extremely difficult, not to mention the added question of becoming a magical creature ," said the professor. "In order to begin your long journey to becoming a registered animagus, we're going to begin to attempt to grow your fingernails. Once you have done so, please call upon me so that I can have a look before you attempt to restore them to their normal length. It's highly unusual for anyone to accomplish this in our first class though I require a serious attempt from all of you. After you have done that, the next step is to grow and shorten back to it's original state your hair."

"Once a witch or wizard has achieved both transfigurations, a potion is brewed and then drank by the witch or wizard wishing to become an animagus. After you drink the potion your animagus form will be revealed to you. Then and only then you will begin the very challenging process of transfiguring your bodyparts into and back from the form. I'm afraid that I can say no more about the process for the time being as I do not want any eager students to injure themselves in the attempts to do this. After completing the nails and hair process today and next lesson, if you wish to continue this area of study, you must seek out either myself or another registered person for personal training. You may begin."

..:..:..

A/N: Hope you liked the chapter. It was more of a filler chapter than anything, but some things were still accomplished. I hope that you don't hate that magical creature animagi are possible in this fic. But if it seriously turns you off of reading, I'll be sad to let you go, but this is something that I wanted to add into the fic just to see what reception the idea gains. Let me know what you thought of the chapter.


	8. Chapter 8: Dark Contemplations

Diagnosis

A/N: This chapter has a lot of medical facts and stuff I made up in it. Let me know how plausible the fictitious stuff is. I'm going to need some reassurance, because the fic is going to have a lot of medical jargon in it since Harry is a cancer patient after all. If you like it let me know and let me know if you dislike it so I know what I'm doing wrong.

I'd also like to thank all of the reviewers for chapter seven. I got eight reviews and that's a first for the fic. Just so you know, I'll do my best to prevent all of the future chapters being just about Harry's health as I know that's probably kind of boring for you lot to read.

The information about the side effects of radiation therapy was taken from www dot texasoncology dot com. I know about chemotherapy but very little about radiation, so I did my research. After all, a cancer fic isn't a good one unless the proper research is attempted.

Disclaimer: Don't own the books. All I got was this lousy t-shirt.

Chapter 8: Dark Contemplations

..:..

Harry walked down Hogwarts corridors at a fast clip. In fact, he was sure that Snape would give him detention for walking so fast if he had caught him. Thankfully for Harry, Professor Snape was at present beginning to lecture a group of first year Gryffindors and Slytherins. Therefore he was too preoccupied to be bothered with such minor infractions.

Harry thanked God that he ran into no one…that was until he reached the hospital wing. Why was Neville blocking his way? Oh yeah, that's right, he had told the boy that he could accompany him here. Where did his brain go, on vacation to the Caribbean Isles or something? Surely he wasn't suffering memory loss this early…

Poppy had made it sound like the more severe symptoms wouldn't hit him yet…no it was just wishful thinking on his part that he could go through his cancer treatments and anything else alone as he always had. He wasn't used to having a loyal friend their for him.

Neville broke Harry out of his revelry by saying, "You're late. When I got here, I thought that you'd already be here, so I went in. She about had a coronary when she saw who it was. I asked her if I could stay with you, and the healer was the one who answered in the affirmative. He said that as long as you wanted me here for moral support, it was okay with him."

"But h-how d-did you get here before me? McGonagall's practical lasted longer than usual today due to our lecture about the animagus transfiguration beforehand," spluttered Harry, not ungrateful for his friend's unwavering presence and support, but just unaccustomed to it. He was far more accustomed to Ron's easy-going attitude.

Neville winked at Harry.

"So you three thought that you were the only ones who were aware of Hogwarts many secrets eh?"

"No, Fred and George were the ones who gave us the means for finding our way so to speak."

"You'll have to tell me all about it sometime, but healer Robertson has other patients besides you. And the last thing we want is the Headmaster to arrive before the healer leaves. Though I must say, as much as Filch and Professor Snape (Harry smiled when Neville didn't stutter out his most feared professor's name) were always on the prowl, how could I've gotten away unscathed without some knowledge of the secret passageways?"

"Dunno," said Harry shrugging his shoulders. "I guess that I'm so ignorant of all things magical that I was under the impression that you had to have access to, the secret to Ron, Hermione, and my own success, to navigate such a large castle so well as to beat me to my own appointment."

"After you my Royal Hinus," replied Neville, trying to alleviate his mate's anxiety a bit.

Neville followed Harry into the hospital wing after holding the door for the raven-haired boy to proceed him.

"Come on in boys," said Poppy cheerily. "Sit on that bed Harry." Poppy gestured to a vacant bed. Harry faltered upon spotting the tray of vials, gaws, a tourniquet and a needle beside the bed. He hadn't signed up for a blood draw today, nor had he consented to get any injections just yet.

Harry's mind wandered back to his discussion with Professor McGonagall and he remembered that he had failed to tell her about his special permission to leave Hogwarts so he called out to Poppy, "I talked to my Head of House about my cancer last night."

"Good for you Harry," said Poppy kindly.

"But I kind of forgot to tell her about my permission form that allows me and my friends to leave Hogwarts wards, so caught up in my cancer tail was I. Could you please tell her about it for me?"

"Of course. I'll be glad too. After all, I was supposed to be the one to tell her in the first place, but I'm proud of you for taking the iniciative to do so yourself."

Harry's attention to the conversation at hand was distracted upon the appearance of a tall, blond haired man.

Ye gods! He was sex on legs, even though he had on scrubs with little dinosaurs tussling with one another on them. If Harry hadn't been aware that the magical oncologist worked in pediatrics, there would be no doubt in his mind now.

Crossing to the bed, Harry gracefully sat down. Reassuring himself that he could suitably distract himself from the tray beside him and what it might involve as long as he kept ogling the man who now stood in front of him.

Neville came to stand beside his friend.

"Hello, Harry. I'm healer Robertson, but feel free to call me Dr. P or Peter if you wish." Harry's lips twitched. He could sus why the children both muggle and wizard alike came up with the first nickname.

Harry reached out his hand and shook the wizard's proffered hand. "I'm Harry Potter, but just Harry will do. Please refrain from referring to me by any of those ridiculous titles that the Proffet and the wizarding world in general has decorated me with."

"I think that I can do that Harry. Who is your friend?"

"Healer Robertson, meet Neville Longbottom." Healer Robertson stood their running over what his patient had told him and how he had introduced his friend. He recognized that last name from somewhere…ah yes, he was related to Elisa, his only other patient of magical status over the age of four.

"It's nice to meet you both," said the healer with a kind smile.

"I'm glad that you have someone your own age here to walk with you on this journey Mr. Potter. Because no one should have to go through this alone."

"I wasn't alone before Neville found out, Poppy said she would be here for me," said Harry looking at Poppy, who had been strangely quiet after their conversation had concluded, for reassurance.

"That's all well and good, but unfortunately, she won't be able to be with you throughout the entire process as she has other patients to tend too. Now, your friend here can be there to provide you with something from your normal every-day life that reminds you through the roughest of times that there's a light at the end of the tunnel. You may think that I'm being rather pessimistic about matters considering that I am an accredited oncologist, but your case is a rare one Mr. Potter."

Harry gulped.

"Just how bad is it going to get? Everyone keeps telling me that this oober rare potions regimen is going to be complete and utter hell but no one has actually told me what it involves. Since I'm the potential patient here, I think that I'm owed at least an explanation of the basics of what I'm about to get myself into."

"So you're definitely seeking treatment then," said Poppy brightly.

"Yeah, unless the muggle tests reveal that I'm hopeless," said Harry. "After I talked to my Head of House about some things, I pretty much decided to get my head out of the sand and go for it. The wizarding world is counting on 'The Chosen One'. I think that that's the latest nickname they've christened me with at least."

"Don't think like that," said Neville firmly. "You've got to keep smiling and thinking positive lest you let the cancer get the better of you."

"Is that the truth," inquired Harry of his healer. "Or is it a load of bollix that they're telling me so that I'll put forth an effort to live to see another day?"

"Study's have proven that a patients outlook on life, state of mind, and support system play a large part in how their body handles the therapy."

Harry was pleased to hear that he could do something that'd determine if the cancer-or as he'd started thinking of it-the other Voldemort killed him or not. This was all he needed to hear all along, that he could do something on his own to determine his fate.

"Now it's time we get to the reason that I'm here," said healer Robertson interrupting Harry's musings. "How are you feeling?"

"Erm…"

"How articulate," teased Neville.

Why did medical professionals always start off like that? If he had been the picture of good health than he wouldn't be here now would he?

"Apart from a few minor headaches and a bout of dizziness during Gryffindor's Quidditch practice the other day, pretty well."

Neville scoffed. If the night before last was any indication, the stubborn Gryffindor had been anything than 'fine'.

Deciding that Harry's health and overall safety mattered more than the possibility that he would royally tick him off by sharing this information, Neville cut in," Harry awoke the other night from a nightmare, and I could tell that he had a migraine. This wasn't the first time I noticed him having a migraine recently either." Harry glared daggers at Neville.

"Was the nightmare anything like the visions that he's been afflicted with," asked Poppy all businesslike.

"Nah, normally after a vision, he chucks up and his scar is inflamed. That wasn't the case this time."

Neville figured that since healer Robertson was going to be Harry's primary physician for the near future that he might as well tell it like he saw it.

"Well that's a relief," said Poppy letting out a sigh of relief at the news that her patient hadn't suffered yet another foray into you-know-who's mind during this turbulent time in his life yet.

"As you already know, some of your treatments are muggle in nature, and muggle technology doesn't mesh well with magic, or in a place where magic is performed regularly. The radiation therapy that you'll be given requires use of imagery equipment that won't work at St Mungo's. This means that you'll be going back and forth to a muggle children's hospital, sometimes four to five times a week. Have you ever used a portkey?"

Harry's stomach sank at the memory of the last time he had traveled by portkey. If he hadn't pressured Cedric into taking the cup with him…

Harry gnawed his lip and then replied, "Yeah, though they're not my favorite mode of wizarding transportation. Is their another way?"

"There are other methods of travel, but they either pose risks to your health: like the floo, it gets you to your destination in an expeditious manner, but the germs that one could pick up along the way if undergoing treatment are hardly worth it. The Hogwarts Express could get you partly their, but would take too much time out of your school schedule. And you haven't learned to appearate just yet."

Harry sighed exasperatedly.

"Alright, I suppose that the more I use portkeys, the easier it will get for me."

"The portkey will be attached to a medical alert bracelet that you are going to ware at all times. The bracelet has the added benefit of storing a magically updated version of your medical chart. This will prove advantageous if you're ever in a medical crisis, because the healer who first gets your case won't have to hunt for a copy of your chart. All they'll have to do is cast a spell that all healers know just in case they ever come into contact with a patient in your situation."

"But…I thought that only really old people or really ill people ware those." The healer had to refrain from crushing his teenage patients' spirit by telling him that he was in fact going to become one of those really sick patients during some phases of his cancer treatment.

"If it's the looks of the bracelet that you're worried about, you ought not worry about that. The bracelet can either be charmed invisible or we can charm it into a design that is more appealing to you."

Harry thought about it for a minute then said, "Can I see the bracelet first?"

"Sure," replied the healer, pulling out a silver bracelet with several charms dangling from it.

"What are the charms for," asked Neville curiously, because he knew that his friend would want to know, but due to the appalling way he grew up, he wouldn't ever ask.

Pointing to the circular disk, the healer said, "This one is where your medical chart will be stored. It serves no other purpose," pointing to the cat shaped one, he said, "This one is the portkey that'll get you as close as possible to the muggle hospital that you will be going to for your treatment," lastly, the healer pointed to the charm that was an exact replica of St. Mungo's symbol he said, "And this one is the portkey that will take you to St Mungo's in case of emergency."

"How are the two portkeys activated," inquired Harry.

"The one for the transportation to and from the muggle hospital requires no activation phrase because if there's ever an emergency of the Dark Lord variety you might need to disappear silently and with no indication of your intended destination." That made perfect sense to Harry.

"And the other one…"

"You tug on the portkey saying 'mickey mouse' and you'll arrive in our intake area where a healer will be there to assess your problem."

It sounded simple enough to Harry. Though he thought it only practical for the bracelet to remain invisible in case he was ever captured and needed a way of escape, that way no one could see the bracelet, thus the death eater holding him captive would have no reason to remove a means of escape from him that they didn't know he had in the first place.

"The bracelet is quite nice looking and all, but given the circumstances of the war, it's probably a good idea for you to charm it invisible, if that's not too much trouble."

"It's no trouble my boy," reassured the healer squeezing his knee in affirmation.

"Hold out your left wrist," said healer Robertson. He fastened the silver metal bracelet around Harry's wrist. And Harry watched in awe as it turned invisible with a mere flick of the healer's wand. The simplest of magic's still fascinated him which set him apart from all of pureblood society if one knew the tale-tail signs to look for that he was muggle raised.

"You can't undo the bracelet now that it's on. This is a safety precaution against some death eater stealing it off you and either accessing your medical records or finding the location of the muggle hospital where you're being treated and attacking it. I'm the only one who can remove the bracelet from your wrist."

"That doesn't prevent them from legilimensing one of my friends to get the location from their minds, or one of the muggle children who I might befriend does it?"

"It's not full proof, but it does make that scenario less likely."

Harry felt a bit better upon hearing that he wasn't going to get the muggle children massacred just by going to a muggle hospital necessarily.

"Now that that's taken care of, I need to record your vitals. This tedious procedure will be done quite frequently throughout your treatment, especially in the muggle hospital. I brought with me some more outdated versions of the muggle equipment to do this with today, so that when you go to the hospital tomorrow…"

Healer Robertson was interrupted by a confused and annoyed Harry, "Wait a minute, no one told me that I'd be starting radiation this quickly. I need some time to prepare myself."

"In the muggle world, you'd have made this decision weeks ago," said Poppy. "Cancer is a fast paced disease, the longer treatment is delayed, the worse the cancer gets. I'm sorry, but healer Robertson is right. We simply can't delay treatment any longer."

"Okay, but…it's all a bit overwhelming…"

"I know; you aren't the first patient of mine, Mr. Potter. Trust me, it's going to be alright. You'll survive the diagnostic tests that will tell us how much treatment to give you, and how fast to administer it. Just like you'll survive the two potions that we'll give you. And the muggle radiation won't hurt a bit."

"What are the two potions? And what are their uses?"

"The first potion is called Celmosphocide. It's a MCDI."

Harry stared at his healer like he had grown a second head. What the bloody hell was that supposed to stand for?

"What exactly does MCDI stand for?"

"It stands for Magical Core Destruction Inhibitor," a spike of fear shot through Harry at the sound of that…it sounded so dangerous. Healer Robertson continued, "In some wizards like yourself, your magic masks your symptoms, which as I'm sure you already know, enables the tumor to grow unchecked and unnoticed by the wizard much longer than it would in a muggle or squib. If we don't prescribe the MCDI your magical core might burn out which would make you a squib as surely as taking muggle chemo would. To put it simply, your magical core is depleting itself at an alarming rate because it's trying to stop the tumor from growing and the symptoms from worsening. Your magic is fighting a losing battle, and this process is only going to make it harder on your body the longer it continues. The MCDI will make your body more susceptible to the chemo like magical agent and the radiation, which will increase your chances for survival. If you choose not to take the potion, it would result in your life span being shortened significantly if you undergo treatment, which you said you wish to do."

"Okay. How often will I have to take the potion, and what are the side-effects?"

"The potion is taken daily. It has to be administered intravenously or through a catheter or port."

"Um, what are those? They sound scary."

"I'll get to that in a minute. As for the side-effects, I have a leaflet for you to read for both your magical treatment and your muggle treatment. I'll give them to you before you leave, because I think that you might want to read them in private. Though the MCDI has the fewest and more enjoyable side-effects out of all three. Your magical power will increase. Since you're going to be undergoing treatment of one kind or another for quite some time, your magic will mature earlier. I dare say, your friends will envy your magical skills before long," said the healer in an effort to cheer up his patient.

"Wicked," exclaimed Neville. "I wish that were me!"

"No you don't," said Harry firmly.

"I didn't mean it like that Harry," backpedaled Neville quickly. "I told you about Elisa the other day, but I wish I could find a source that would increase my magic."

"I also heard that you've been experiencing some double vision. It's standard procedure for patients with brain tumors to be given steroids, which will decrease the inticranial pressure in your brain," said the healer, reaching into his bag and pulling out a bottle of muggle pills, which rattled as he handed them over to Harry. "Take them as the instructions on the bottle say, and they should help keep at bay any more neurological symptoms from emerging. However, seizures are still likely too happen, that's why tomorrow, the other members of your cancer team will prescribe an anticonvulsant to you which should prevent you from having as many seizures."

"But I haven't had a fit yet," said Harry puzzled.

"As the tumor continues to grow, you will probably have seizures as a result. Just take the medication that they give you. I promise, if you ask any kid their who has a brain tumor if they're on an anticonvulsant or steroids, they'll tell you that they are. The side effects from these two types of drugs should have no real impact on your life. They're usually minor in nature."

"The next phase of your treatment is the magical chemo agent which is called Todesgefahr. Much like it's muggle counterpart, the side-effects are rather nasty. I won't go into them all right now. The dosage depends upon the type of tumor you have and it's size. Your treatments will be given via the same 'line' as you're MCDI, though it will be given in cycles."

"What's a cycle mean in that context," asked Harry, needing to know, but not wanting to at the same time.

"Due to the toxicity of the potion, your body can't recover from the effects of the potion fast enough to fight off the cancer successfully if we give it to you daily, so you will be on it for a few days, then the potion will be discontinued for two to seven days, depending upon the dosage and how well your body can handle it."

'Well that's reassuring.' Thought Harry sarcastically.

"And who's going to brew the potions? Neville told me that Elisa can't take the potion, why is that?"

"One question at a time Harry," said healer Robertson with a chuckle. "Children under the age of twelve can't take the potion, because it's too toxic. It would kill them. So they're given chemotherapy instead. That right there is why I'm certified in both worlds. Younger magical children need specialized care from a magical oncologist, but have to take muggle treatments in order to get well. It makes things rather complicated you see. There's only one potioneer who I know of that has the skills to brew these complex potions…"

"Will the potion sap Harry's magic," asked Neville. "Elisa will probably be a squib or a very weak witch, I don't want to see that happen to Harry."

"No. That's why the potion was invented in fact. Witches and wizards over the age of eleven no longer have to worry about being turned into squibs if they seek cancer treatment, though their treatment can prove debilitating in other ways."

Stealing his friend's thunder and changing the subject back to grounds on which he could comprehend, Harry asked, "And who is the potions master who will brew the potions?"

"Professor Snape."

Harry knew it!

"There's some animosity between the two of us, I'm not sure he'll agree to do it if he finds out that the potions are for me."

"He'll have too, the oath that he took upon being a certified potions master requires him to treat anyone that he can if asked, regardless of his own personal feelings."

"Well then…" trailed off Harry.

"Didn't he already agree to teach you potions," asked Poppy.

"Yeah, but that's different…it doesn't require him to save my life or anything, just tolerate my presence."

"Trust me, Harry. He will agree to do it gladly," said Poppy. She left unsaid that he was duty bound because of the life debt that he owed to James had been passed down to Harry. For that would only trouble her favorite patient even further.

"I hereby release the confidentiality oath that you took for me," stated Harry, feeling compelled by something-was it magic herself, to say those exact words.

"Okay, then healer Robertson and I will go talk to him tonight, once the healer has acquired the lists of rare potions ingredients that he needs to get to brew the potions." She yet again withheld from him that she would require an Unbreakable Vow from her colleague before revealing anything to the man, because she didn't want him to be forced to tell everything to Dumbledore or you-know-who, as his spy status might require him to do otherwise.

"Is that sufficient time for you to have everything ready," asked Poppy of healer Robertson.

"Yes."

Looking at his wrist watch with trepidation, healer Robertson said, "Oh dear me, the time is slipping away from us. I've got to get on with things, if I'm going to be back here by nightfall. Now Harry, have you had a muggle physical before?"

Harry shook his head sadly.

"You mean your relatives never took you to the doctor when you were little?"

"Only when I broke my arm; they took me to hospital. They didn't give me a physical though because my Aunt told the nurse that I had had one just a week ago. Which was a lie, but that's neither here or their."

"Alright, then I'm definitely glad that I brought the muggle items to show you before your appointment tomorrow. The physical exam won't hurt at all."

Healer Robertson took out an oddoscope and looked in Harrys ears. Then he shined his lit wand in front of Harry's eyes, which made Harry squint. Seeing that his pupils were of normal size made the healer happy because it meant that his inticranial pressure wasn't too awfully elevated, which was a known symptom of brain tumors. The healer next took hold of Harry's right wrist and searched for his pulse point, then pressed down with two fingers: counting his heartbeats for a minute. "Your heart rate is up a bit, has this happened before," asked the healer.

"Not when I was at rest. Why?"

"I was just wondering, because if the tumor is located on the brain stem, blood pressure and heart rate/rhythm irregularities can occur. It's something that we need to keep an eye on, though it's probably nothing to really worry about."

"It's more than likely just your nerves since this is your first physical after all," said the healer continuing his exam. He reached into his bag which seemed to hold more than it's capacity and pulled out a stethoscope to listen to Harry's breathing and instructed, "Breathe in, and out again." As he moved the stethoscope around on his chest and back after Harry had undone his robe a bit so that the stethoscope could be closer to his skin in order for the healer to hear. The stethoscope was cold against his skin, even though their was a layer of cloth separating it from his skin which was his shirt. He instructed Harry to breathe in and out again, once his robes were undone: the better to hear his breathing.

Putting the stethoscope away, the healer said, "Now I need to get your blood pressure." He reached into his bag and withdrew an old-fashioned blood pressure cuff and bulbous. "Give me your left arm and just relax. The cuff will get a bit tight so that it can get an accurate reading."

Harry relaxed, as healer Robertson wrapped the cuff around his upper arm just above the elbow. Then his healer took the other end which was attached to the cuff by what looked like plastic tubing of some kind, against his elbow and squeezed it several times. The cuff tightened uncomfortably around his arm.

Just as he was about to demand like he was Draco sodding Malfoy, to 'take that ruddy thing off of him', the cuff deflated.

"We're all done," said Robertson unsticking the velcrow from the cuff then unwrapping it from his arm.

"Now I'm going to take your temperature. Just put this under your tongue and hold it there," said the healer.

Harry did as he was told until he heard a beeping noise coming from the thermometer in his mouth.

Healer Robertson was relieved to see that Harry's temperature was within normal range.

"How did that work," asked Harry. "Thermometers are muggle devices that use batteries."

"I cast a charm on a transfigured one, so that it looks like what you're going to see tomorrow and took your temperature with a spell. I deceived you this way so that you aren't puzzled tomorrow when they take your temperature this way."

"Fare enough," acquiesced Harry.

"I'm going to record everything else with a diagnostic spell so that we can get on with things."

"Okay, but what else do we have to get on with," asked Harry apprehensively.

After recording Harry's weight the healer said, "You weigh 9 stone 9 pounds, which roughly equals 135 pounds. This suggests that you have suffered from slight malnutrition during some point in your life."

"I'm aware of the problem," interrupted Poppy before he could start questioning her patient about things that he didn't want to discuss with anyone. "I had planned to start him on some nutrition potions this term, but when I found the cancer…that was the farthest thing from my mind."

"But you know that that's a sign…"

"Yes," said Poppy. "I've already taken care of things. He's admitting that it happened and that's a start."

Harry didn't like the tone of their conversation, or the way they seemed to be talking around him instead of to him, not that he wanted to be a part of their conversation, which centered on how much he weighed. He knew that this was a result of how he was treated at "home". He was grateful when Poppy reassured his healer, because he REALLY didn't feel like discussing his family dynamics right now or ever for that matter.

"What else are you going to do," asked Harry slightly hysterically. He had a feeling that he knew, that tray of instruments wasn't just sitting beside him for no reason. They were going to draw his blood, which made sense since the muggle doctors would need lab results to know that he was healthy before they started radiation therapy, didn't they?

"I need to take a blood sample to make sure that your kidneys and liver are functioning fine, because one of the potions you're taking can cause kidney function to decrease, and sometimes liver failure. It'll only hurt for a minute."

Harry knew that that was a cock-and-bull story, because the only other time he had gone to hospital as a child, he had needed stitches, which involved a needle to numb his skin before they sowed his forehead back together and it had hurt quite a bit. The next morning, his forehead was red. He never figured out what the source of the discoloration was from; it eventually went away though.

"I'll be right here," reassured Neville, giving his right shoulder a squeeze. "Elisa says that after a while, all of the needle sticks and tests stop hurting after a time, because you get used to them when you have cancer." Somehow, that failed to reassure Harry one ounce.

"Are you ready to begin then, Mr. Potter?" healer Robertson asked as he slipped on white stretchy gloves that resembled the one Dudley once brought home from Hospital filled up like a balloon.

Harry nodded, not trusting his voice.

"Lay back," Pomfrey told him, helping him to get situated and comfortable. He felt his friend Neville take his right hand, squeezing it to let him know he was there if he needed him. Neville didn't care what his friends would say if they knew he was sitting beside his friend and holding his hand like a sissy. Harry needed him right now and that was all that was important. Harry gulped as the healer appeared above him. The man really was intimidating when he towered over you with a tourniquet in hand.

"I'm going to take a few vials of blood. You'll feel one pin prick and before you know it, it will all be over," his healer explained.

Harry tried to relax, as healer Robertson took his left arm in hand and wrapped the tourniquet around his arm just above the elbow and tied it tightly with a slip knot. Harry felt a pinch as the healer pinched his skin to make sure that his patient was hydrated enough to get a vain. If the skin didn't go back to normal shortly after being pinched then the patient was dehydrated in most cases. He then traced a vain that looked promising on the inside of his elbow with a finger. It was bouncy which meant that the vain was a suitable one. He then wiped Harry's arm with a cotton ball with alcohol on it to sterilize the area. Then he stuck him with the needle.

Harry wished he had looked away before the needle sank into his skin. The very sight of the needle made him ill.

Removing the butterfly needle, Robertson collected the vials of blood he needed.

Neville released Harry's sweaty hand.

Pressing a cotton ball onto the puncture sight, healer Robertson said, "Can you hold the cotton ball for me Harry while I clean up? As soon as the bleeding stops, I can heal you right up."

Harry nodded.

When healer Robertson returned from Pomfrey's office after washing his hands, he told Harry that he could remove the cotton ball. All bleeding had stopped, so the handsome healer performed a quick healing spell.

"We're all done," said healer Robertson jovially. "Earlier you asked me what I meant by a 'line'. It's time I provide you with an answer."

Harry winced. From the sound of it, it wasn't going to be anything he wanted to know more about.

"Muggles find it easier to administer some drugs by other methods than prescribing pills or giving shots. Muggle chemo, and the magical equivalent are two examples of medication that can't be ingested. Nor can they be given by injection as they can irritate the skin, because they are so potent. In addition, this is also a better way to get the potions into your system. Most of your treatment plan involves a potion that simulates chemotherapy in many ways, as I've stated earlier."

Not for the first time that day, Harry wished furtively that he was in ancient runes with Hermione, or even better, in the common room with Ron playing a game of wizards chess.

"Your intravenous Todesgefahr will enter through a line in your chest in liquid form from a pump that regulates how fast it flows into your body," explained healer Robertson easily. "And your MCDI will be given to you either through your Hickman, or the port with a special needle. It will be given to you in shot form, if you have the port. If you choose the other option, then it'll be injected into a lumen of the Hickman."

"What do you mean by a line?"

"I'm not talking about a line on a map or a line in mathematics. In medical terminology, a line refers to a small tube that's inserted into your body in order to give you fluids, medications, or blood."

"Inserted?" Harry whipped his head around to look at Poppy growing scared. They were going to insert something in him and then pump copious amounts of potions that were more closely related to poisons than your garden variety potion into his body? Were they sure this was going to help him rather than harm him?

Poppy wanted more than ever to scoop Harry up, and wrap him in her arms, protecting him from every danger that haunted the boy. But she could hardly kill Voldemort for him. And she could do less than that to alleviate his pain and suffering from the cancer. However, she could instruct a house elf to dose his pumpkin juice for all the meals until tomorrow when he left for a muggle hospital with a calming draft. His potion intake was supposed to be limited, but a calming draft or two before treatment wasn't going to hurt him. This would lessen his anxiety of what was to come from a boiling point to a manageable level.

The fear in his eyes almost broke Poppy's heart.

"You'll have either a Hickman line or a port placed before your treatments start. It's so you don't need an IV. Those can't stay in throughout the entirety of your treatment without needing to be removed and put in a different location every few days, and you'd be poked with needles often."

"Stay in?" Harry didn't like the sound of anything involving his cancer treatment. He felt his hands begin to sweat and Goosebumps rise up on his arms.

Neville felt bad for his friend. Seeing Elisa go through chemotherapy was different because he wasn't around for a majority of it. Now he was sitting their and had been listening to them talk about doing horrible things to his friend with the hopes that he would endure it all and come out on the other side relatively unscathed.

"Yes. Once placed a Hickman line or port can stay in for the duration of your treatment. They're very convenient," the healer said. "A Hickman is a catheter or tube that will be placed here," the oncologist used his left hand to point to a spot on Harry's chest near his right collarbone. "The catheter will hang outside your body and when it's time for your potions, the tubing that's there will be hooked up to the pump. It can also be used to draw blood, so there's no need for needle sticks."

"And the other option?" Harry asked terrified, his face paling more with every word Robertson said.

"A port is a small device placed under the skin near your collarbone. It's accessed by a special needle where it'll be connected to your Todesgefahr or whatever else you may need."

"But I'll still have to endure the needles?" Harry confirmed not liking that idea one iota.

"Yes. As your healer, I'd suggest the Hickman line with your aversion to needles and the other options it offers that the port does not."

"You're letting me pick?" Harry asked, surprised. How was he supposed to pick one when he didn't know much about either option? What if he chose the wrong one?

"Yes, it's your body and you're the one having to deal with needles or tubing attached to your body. Both choices work well," his healer explained his reasoning. "As your healer, it's my job to provide you with your options and where necessary, my opinion, but you're the one actually going through this, not me. There are good qualities for both as well as bad ones."

"Do I have to make up my mind right now?"

"No, they just need to know your decision tomorrow after your MRI and the party, that's all," said Poppy.

Momentarily diverted from the seriousness of their discussion, Harry said, "What party? I thought that I was going to Hospital to get radiation treatment and one of those line thingys put in my chest, not for a sodding party."

"Every time a new patient is officially admitted into the hospital for cancer treatment, the ward throws a party for them. It gives all of the kids with cancer something to celebrate and a reason to have fun. It also gives you a way to make new friends who are going through the same things you are. Many of my patients say that the thing that's helped them through this most was the cancer support group, those are the people you will meet tomorrow. Most of them have been through what you have and understand what you're going through. They will be able to tell you far more about living with cancer as a teen than I can."

Harry smiled for the first time in this conversation.

"There's a few more details that I need to go over with you before you leave though, Todesgefahr is like an extremely toxic poison to your system. Throughout the treatment, it's important that you tell Professor Snape, or Madame Pomfrey if you get any on your skin. And there are hygienic techniques that I need to go over with you Poppy, about the side-effects later, if that's alright with you."

"Why in Merlins balls would I touch the potion," asked Harry.

"You wouldn't ever do it intentionally, but if you sicked up and it got on your skin, or the bag that the potion is in should have a hole in it…"

"Okay, I get the picture!"

"Why haven't you told him much about his radiation treatments," asked Neville timidly.

"Because I don't yet know which type he's going to receive, or how frequently he will be getting it. Though your friend has a point," said healer Robertson. "There's one possible side-affect that I've got to tell you about and you've got to take care of before tomorrow if you wish to father children someday."

Uh-oh.

"Radiation therapy can make you sterile…I'm sure that Madame Pomfrey can provide you with a private lavatory and a cup…"

Harry's face flamed red.

"Just make sure to take care of things by tomorrow morning at one. That's when you'll need to arrive at the muggle children's hospital. I'll give you the details and address later this evening Poppy, so that Harry and the adult who accompanies him can apearate to a nearby alley."

"I thought you told me to use the portkey," said Harry.

"And you will for every visit where you can travel their independently after tomorrow, but I've got to set the coordinates for the portkey before you can use it, or you'll end up in Tenbucktoo."

"Harry, you also need to be aware of the fact that medications aren't smart like humans. They can't distinguish between good and bad cells. In the process of killing off the cancer cells, some good ones will be killed off, too."

"Is that why chemotherapy can make you a squib," asked Harry.

"Yes."

"So if there happen to be kids their who I recognize as relatives of a wizarding family, they're probably destined to be a squib," asked Harry.

"Unfortunately, 99% of those with magical blood who undergo chemotherapy lose their magic. And you're the only patient that I've ever had who was given Todesgefahr too. It's highly experimental, but you need your magic Mr. Potter, and it's the only chance you have to keep it and survive."

..:..:..

After healer Robertson left, Harry and Neville left the hospital wing. Casting a tempus charm, Harry shrieked, "Bloody hell! We missed lunch! I've got class in ten minutes."

"I'll go to the kitchens and pilfer something for you to eat after classes mate," said Neville.

"Let me know if you want to talk about things later. You know where to find me if you do."

..:..:..:..

After classes were finally over, Harry trudged back to the Fat Lady. He muttered the password and heaved himself into the common room. He was pleased to see that Neville had scrounged up some turkey sandwiches with mayo and some crisps for him. A note sat under a goblet of pumpkin juice that by the cool feel Harry could tell had a cooling charm on it that read:

Dobby gave this to me to give to you. He said he made it fresh just for you.

I've got an extra credit assignment to do for Professor McGonagall. You can find me in the library if you need me.

Nev.

Since his dorm mates had far more interesting things to do than stay shut up in their dorm room all day, Harry made his way their to peruse the leaflets that healer Robertson had given him. He needed to read them before tomorrow and this might very well be the only time he had to read them in complete solitude.

After shutting the bed curtains and casting a silencing charm around his bed to ensure that he would have complete privacy, Harry reached into his robe pocket and withdrew the first leaflet that read:

Side Effects and Complications of Radiation Therapy for Brain Tumors

He was finally going to find more out about the mystery that was radiation therapy, but was he prepared…

Radiation therapy usually is given over a six to eight week period, for five days at a time, followed by two to three days off, depending upon the dosage. Radiation therapy is commonly associated with some side effects. However, patients experience side effects at different rates and to different degrees. A dose that causes some discomfort in one patient may cause no side effects in another, and may be disabling to a third. Side effects of radiation therapy can be grouped into general and those pertaining to neurological, or brain function. General side effects may include:

• Hair loss,

• Skin irritation,

• Hearing problems,

• Nausea/Vomiting,

• Fatigue,

• Appetite changes, and

• Damage to salavatory glands.

Neurological side effects

The major side effect of radiation for brain tumors is damage to normal brain tissues, which can lead to mild, moderate, or severe brain damage. Newer radiation therapy techniques can limit these effects, but may not always eliminate them. Neurological side effects may occur immediately after treatment, a few weeks to a few months after the completion of treatment, or they may occur months or years after treatment and persist as long-term effects.

Harry was horrified! Radiation therapy could cause brain damage in rare cases! Why had healer Robertson failed to tell him this? Maybe it had never happened to any of his patients…or maybe it was one of those symptoms that drug companies and doctors had to tell you about, so that they wouldn't get sued if the worst were to happen…yes that was it! It happened to one in a million people and that one in a millionth person wasn't going to be him.

He had to try to win. Or he was just choosing a slow agonizing death over a quick one at Tom Riddle's hand. And he was no COWARD! If he had to risk these terrifying side effects in order to live then he would.

Immediately after treatment: Acute reactions occur immediately after treatment and are caused by radiation-induced brain swelling (edema). Symptoms can mimic the symptoms of your brain tumor, like speech problems or muscle weakness or those of increased intracranial pressure, such as headache, nausea, or double vision. Acute side effects are usually temporary and may be relieved by corticosteroids such as dexamethasone. Often, steroids are prescribed to be taken during the entire treatment so that acute side-effects are avoided or minimized. The steroid dose is gradually reduced and discontinued when treatment is completed.

So that was why healer Robertson had handed him that bottle of pills and told him to take them as prescribed on the bottle. Since his double vision was a sign of inticranial pressure, did that mean that the steroids he had been given would take care of it, so that he could fly again? He made a mental note to ask Madame Pomfrey tomorrow before he left.

Weeks or months after treatment: So-called "early delayed" or sub-acute reactions commonly occur between one and three months after treatment. Symptoms include loss of appetite, sleepiness, lack of energy, and an increase in pre-existing neurological symptoms. Sub-acute reactions are thought to be due to temporary disruption to the nerve coverings. These symptoms are usually temporary, lasting about six weeks, the length of time it takes for myelin to repair itself. In some cases, however, recovery may take several months.

Another reaction that can occur weeks or months after treatment is swelling as a result of the build-up of dead tumor cells. The brain lacks an effective lymph system, the clean-up system of the body. Therefore, dead tumor cells are cleared away very slowly and radiation-induced cell death may cause rapid build-up of dead cells. The swelling that occurs as a result of the dead cells may cause an increase in neurological symptoms similar to the symptoms of the brain tumor.

Harry fought back the flood of tears that tried to fall, because he still had one more fucking leaflet to read.

Chemo potion:

Todesgefahr: this potion is the equivalent of muggle chemotherapy for wizards: the side-effects are thus closely related to those of chemotherapy agents:

Loss of body weight: and in extremely high doses, muscle mass as well

Nausea

Vomiting

Hair loss

Thrombocytopenia (Low Platelet Counts)

Weakened immune system, due to low ANC

Fever/infections

Sensitivity to touch

Body pain

Fatigue

Magical core destruction inhibitor: Celmosphocide

Sideaffects are usually minor in nature but include:

Temporary boost in magical power levels

Giddiness

Inability to sleep, due to excitability

(important note: patient should avoid taking copious amounts of other potions due to the possibility of drug reactions)

Harry folded up both leaflets and finally allowed the cascade of tears to fall. The information that he had heard all day hit him like a freight train. He couldn't take it anymore! At this moment, Harry wasn't the FUCKING chosen one, or the boy-who-lived, or Neville, Ron, Hermione and Ginny's friend, or any number of things that he was on any average day. He was just another cancer patient dealing with the reality of being stuck in a cancer riddled body for the first time, who could be disabled by the cancer treatments, or if he was lucky, he would die.

Harry let it all out, sobbing uncontrollably into his pillow.

When he was done, Harry wiped his eyes. He had never before noticed how therapeutic the act of crying really was. Now everything that he had listened too today, or read was somehow more bearable. Yes he still wanted to talk to Neville about which device he should get put in him tomorrow, but it could wait until after dinner and his sodding meeting with the Headmaster.

..:..:..:..

Severus's POV

It was a devious beast of a problem.

My brewing had ground to a halt the previous evening after three days of dead ends, inert masses and over-reactions, amidst attempting to teach the masses of Hogwarts students how to brew the simplest of potions without blowing themselves up. In this case, theory and practice were not only not speaking to each other, they refused to even glance in each other's direction. So, abandoning practice completely for the moment, I decided to try to bend theory to my will. The result was that, some twenty minutes later, I was wading through discarded reactivity charts, ingredient substitutions and alchemical process diagrams. I was also getting nowhere. I rubbed my forehead and wished for a cup of coffee and one of those almond croissants from the bakery that my grandmother runs. Her croissants are the best around. If there was any single key, it was eluding me. It was more likely anyway to be a number of unrelated factors…I relented and let my hand fall to the hot mug of coffee at my side and raised it for a sip. The second I tasted it I spit it out, shoving myself back violently from the table, my chair tottering to the floor behind me. Where the hell had that come from? Who broke through the wards on my door that prevented anyone from even knocking on the door?

I was trying to complete a potion that would contain the curse in the Headmaster's hand from spreading, if successful, it would buy him another seven to nine months before claiming his life. But what did the old man expect would happen when you go messing with dark magical artifacts of that magnitude without taking the proper precautions?

..:..:..:..:..

Poppy's POV

Madame Pomfrey and healer Robertson stood outside Severus Snape's door. They stood their at a standstill; debating as to who was going to dare knock on the crass potion's master's personal lab door , which was more reminiscent of the patients ages that they treated than their own.

"You do it, I've been dealing with recalsatory patients all day. In addition to explaining things to Mr. Potter."

"No. I was forced to watch a boy whom I consider a son endure every blow you gave him by telling him what he will face for the next year or longer."

"Poppy, you know I had too…"

"Yes, but that doesn't change anything."

"Alright," huffed healer Robertson. "I'll do it."

..:..:..:..:..

Severus's POV

Jerked back into reality once more at the knock on his door, Severus hurriedly picked up the chair that he had knocked over in agitation, not startlement, because Severus Snape was never startled by anything, before the person who kept insisting to be let in like a bloody vampire was chasing them, knocked down his door and saw him standing their with a chair laying in the middle of the floor haphazardly.

"Come in," ordered Severus undoing the locking spell of his own invention so that whoever it was could enter.

Severus hadn't expected a stranger to be the source of his 'agitation'. But he was interested when he saw Poppy Pomfrey standing in his door frame with a tall, blond and very handsome man with her. From the looks of it, the friend of hers had been the one to knock despite the wards on his door that distracted everyone from noticing it unless they had something pressing to see him about.

"I've been working on that special potion you requested of me," said Severus with a nonchalant wave of his hand, which was intended to hurry her along so that he could get back to the potion for the Headmaster. "But my dunderheaded students seem to only add to my already full workload."

"You needn't continue it," stated Poppy confidently.

"Why ever not," asked Severus curiously. "The problem isn't going to just fix it's self. The reason for your request of me isn't going to just go away because you want it too."

"That's why I'm here," said Poppy. "The man beside me is a former colleague of mine. Healer Robertson, meet Professor Snape."

Sevrus recognized the name…wasn't he an oncologist…

Why was an oncologist at Hogwarts of all places?

"I'm already acquainted with him," retorted the potions master stiffly. "We met briefly at a muggle medical confrance that we both attended when I was going to muggle university to study the basics of muggle healing…"

"Why are you two here in my personal lab together?"

"Why I'm here about the very same patient that I asked you to brew that potion for," said Poppy.

"But…that means…a student can't have…"

It was a rare thing that struck Severus Snape speechless, and Poppy had managed to do it. Little did he know that she was about to yank the proverbial rug right from underneath his feet with her next statement.

..:..:..:..

A/N: After such an intense chapter, I suspect that you all are full of questions and comments. Hit that little button. I won't bite. I've made several edits to this chapter to make it better match my current writing abilities, I hope that you don't mind.


	9. Chapter 9: the End to a Trying Day

Diagnosis

A/N: Happy father's day to all of the fathers out their. And thanks for all of the reviews.

Disclaimer: Don't own the rights to the Potter verse, much to my displeasure.

Chapter 9: the End to a Trying Day

..:..

Jerked back into reality once more at the knock on his door, Severus hurriedly picked up the chair that he had knocked over in agitation, not startlement, because Severus Snape was never startled by anything, before the person who kept insisting to be let in like a bloody vampire was chasing them, knocked down his door and saw him standing their with a chair laying in the middle of the floor haphazardly.

"Come in," ordered Severus undoing the locking spell of his own invention so that whoever it was could enter.

Severus hadn't expected a stranger to be the source of his 'agitation'. But he was interested when he saw Poppy Pomfrey standing in his door frame with a tall, blond and very handsome man with her. From the looks of it, the friend of hers had been the one to knock despite the wards on his door that distracted everyone from noticing it unless they had something pressing to see him about.

"I've been working on that special potion you requested of me," said Severus with a nonchalant wave of his hand, which was intended to hurry her along so that he could get back to the potion for the Headmaster. "But my dunderheaded students seem to only add to my already full workload."

"You needn't continue it," stated Poppy confidently.

"Why ever not," asked Severus curiously. "The problem isn't going to just fix it's self. The reason for your request of me isn't going to just go away because you want it too."

"That's why I'm here," said Poppy. "The man beside me is a former colleague of mine. Healer Robertson, meet Professor Snape."

Sevrus recognized the name…wasn't he an oncologist…

Why was an oncologist at Hogwarts of all places?

"I'm already acquainted with him," retorted the potions master stiffly. "We met briefly at a muggle medical conference that we both attended when I was going to muggle university to study the basics of muggle healing…"

"Why are you two here in my personal lab together?"

"Why I'm here about the very same patient that I asked you to brew that potion for," said Poppy.

"But…that means…a student can't have…"

It was a rare thing that struck Severus Snape speechless, and Poppy had managed to do it. Little did he know that she was about to yank the proverbial rug right from underneath his feet with her next statement.

Staring at the man whom Severus thought he recollected as being a muggle children's oncologist, he asked, "What brings you to Hogwarts? If I recall, your field of study is cancer. To my knowledge, Hogwarts hasn't had a student afflicted with cancer for over a decade."

Shrugging his shoulders Robertson replied, "Well times have changed…"

A knot of fear clenched in the pit of the normally unflappable potions master's stomach. If any single student currently enrolled in Hogwarts had the disposition for atrocious luck it was the spawn of James Potter. "May I inquire the identity of the patient in question and the nature of their affliction?"

"It's Harry," said Poppy sadly.

"That's why he nearly lost it in my class that day when Draco had the good sense to shut the waif of a boy up. Why I was under the delusion that he had had another vision from the Dark Lord or something," retorted Severus irritation evident in his tone. "But I should've known when you asked me to invent you a potion with the capability and strength to break the Healer's Oath."

"You didn't," came the incredulous retort from Robertson.

"I had no choice; Harry was going to force me to watch helplessly as he died. For a time, he wanted nothing to do with the treatment of his cancer."

"You're damn lucky I trust you with my life Poppy, because many of our fellow healers would report you for the attempted breach of a patient's privacy regardless. The Healer's Oath has an Exception, why didn't you seek their aid in convincing our most stubborn patient?"

Poppy's nostrils flared in fury. "Don't speak of what you don't understand! The chosen Exception to the Oath turned a blind eye to a situation in which I asked their help for in the past, so why would anything have changed now?"

"The Exception to the Oath in Hogwarts is usually the Headmaster," stated Robertson devising a subtle way of sussing a way to confirm his suspicions without asking her a question to which he knew she couldn't answer. This was the supreme usage of Slytherin tactics if their ever was one.

"Yes, the Headmaster is often treated like he's infallible, but people rarely look past that grandfatherly facade he puts on so well. Earlier today in the hospital wing, you know when you brought up Harry's weight…"

"Of course I do. For Merlin sake, a growing teenager only weighs so low on the charts if they're having to make up the difference that they lose over the summer hols," said Robertson. "You mean to tell me that you brought accusations of suspected abuse of the boy to the Headmaster and he just blew you off!"

With a roll of her eyes Poppy said, "Yes. I thought you trusted me."

"I did, but after such a seeming breech of protocol and duty as I thought you had committed by asking Severus to break the confidentiality of the Healers Oath a confirmation of good faith is necessary."

"Glad you are a "by the books" kind of guy," said Severus sarcastically. "Because Potter sure is. You'll have such luck in persuading him to try out new clinical trials when the day comes for such drastic measures to be taken."

"Harry and I've built up quite a rapport if I do say so myself Severus," came the healer's smart response. "From what I gathered by his expression when he realized that you were the potions master of whom we'd be asking to brew the potions he'll need, he nearly went into an apoplectic fit."

"Now now boys," said Poppy patronizing them both for their childish attitudes. "How about we stop acting like two year olds and start acting like the professionals that I know we are." Speaking in the third person was a deliberate act on Poppy's part, because she knew that it'd put a halt to the two men's annoying bickering back and forth.

"So why pray tale did you think that I would brew your precious golden boy's potions? I'd hardly be champing at the bit to do so, since they have a 40% chance of causing serious injury to him or death. I'm not looking for my own personal cell in Azkaban you know, after Dumbledore so graciously saw to my release in 1981 on the grounds that I was playing a dual role as spy for the light."

"It's standard procedure for the patient to sign a consent form before any treatment is given. You would hardly be liable," said Poppy firmly. "You're the only chance he has."

"What about muggle chemotherapy? The side-effects are abhorrent, but he'd live."

"Muggle drugs like Irinotecan or Etoposide can make wizarding children and teens squibs. And since my patient is an idle for the wizarding world, I'd rather not risk being the one blamed for dooming him to a life of squibhood thankyouverymuch."

"Well then," said Severus noncommittally. "Aren't their any other drugs that he can try?"

"If the tumor turns out to be refractory to any treatment, then there is one muggle chemotherapy drug we can give him, but the side-effects are EXTREMELY hazardous to anyone with as little magical blood in their vanes as an ounce and everyone in our world knows that he's magically stronger than most."

"What is it called," asked Poppy curious as to her patient's possible options if the worst should happen and his cancer were to reoccur someday down the road.

"I don't want to say…we probably won't have to even consider that possibility."

"Very well," sneered Severus with a raised eyebrow. "What about muggle radiation? It's a barbaric way to treat cancer in my humble opinion, but…"

"But you won't be held accountable for the outcome," supplied healer Robertson right on the money.

"I presume that he's going to let some muggle doctor play pen the radiation on the wizard now," scoffed Severus.

"I wouldn't put it quite like that," said Robertson speaking slowly as if he were talking to a rather dim-witted child. "Muggle radiotherapy is very successful what with the constant advancement in technique and the different types of rays that we're discovering will reduce tumor size."

"What type of cancer does he have? Somehow you two have evaded that particular query of mine thus far."

"Harry was diagnosed with brain cancer," said Poppy her face falling.

"You mean to tell me that he's been ill since before he nearly had an aneurism in my class from the pressure building in his brain and he has yet to start treatment of any variety," snarled Severus menacingly. "Why the delay?"

"Mr. Potter refused treatment of any kind until recently. If I had tried to force it on him before he felt ready, I was afraid he'd resent me and I'm one of the only adults to whom he has begun to rely upon. I didn't want to push him," defended Poppy.

"Why I never knew you cared so much," shot Robertson from beside his friend.

"I don't care a whit what happens to him, just as long as he doesn't die on my watch," said Severus.

Poppy knew it! Severus didn't want anyone to know it, but he did care in his own bizarre way for every student; his defensive yet tentatively helpful question about Potter confirmed it. Since she assumed he'd be brewing the potions, that meant that he'd do his best to ensure his health remain good until he no longer needed the potions.

"How often will he be receiving the radiation," inquired Severus.

"Again, I must stress how your actions show that you care for the boy's well-being," said Robertson.

"I do not," retorted Severus shortly.

"Do too!"

"I do not you imbecile!"

"Alright you two," reprimanded Poppy as if she were talking to three year olds instead of thirty plus year olds. "Must I separate you two and place you into different corners of this office?"

Severus wasn't going to dignify her statement with a response.

"Let's get on with this already, I've got better things to be doing than refereeing this jungle gym," lectured Poppy sternly.

"He'll be traveling between Hogwarts and the hospital five times a week for six to eight weeks."

"And after that," asked Severus.

"Six to eight weeks is the recommended length of treatment for radiotherapy treatment. After that, we'll assess things and go from their."

"Are you planning on coming clean with Potter and telling him that he has around eight weeks for the muggle side of his treatment to take affect and that's it," asked Severus.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come too it, and I didn't say that that was his last option for muggle treatment. Though it's most certainly his safest option."

"So if I acquiesce to your demands and brew what promises to be a complex potion for Potter and he takes muggle radiation then he'll more than likely come out of this alive and magically adept?"

"I'm almost certain of it," said Robertson, reaching into his robe pocket (he had removed the scrubs before coming to see Hogwarts sternest professor) and withdrew a rolled up piece of parchment. "Here is the list of ingredients you'll need for the potion to combat his cancer, and at the bottom is the relatively short list of potion ingredients that you'll need to make the MCDI."

"It's that bad," inquired Severus.

"Yeah, his cancer has became rather advanced due to his magic hiding his symptoms for so long. He'll need to be given the MCDI daily until the cancer goes into remission." Severus noticed that Robertson remained optimistic even with a case as serious as Potter's appeared to be. He supposed it was a trait of the job, a competent healer could hardly do his job if it became painfully obvious to the patient and their family that they were inches away from dying now could he?

"Okay. If I'm going to be playing nurse maid to Potter and brewing his potions then how are you going to explain my absence from the staff meetings to Albus," said Severus slyly.

"First of all, no one said that you'd be his primary care giver. He trusts me far more than he will initially trust you Severus," said Poppy kindly. "The boy has trust issues. And secondly, you are more than an adequate potions brewer, I'm sure you can manage to come to the staff meetings since they're held only once a week. Nice try. If I don't get to skive off of them then you don't either."

"And how often will Potter be taking the other potion?"

"That partially depends on the test results."

"What test results?"

"Why didn't you know?"

Severus was growing frustrated by Robertson's playful yet annoying banter.

"Know what exactly," sneered Severus.

"The ones he's going to be getting tomorrow."

"How's he going to a muggle hospital then? Because I'm certainly NOT taking him their."

"Oh didn't I tell you…"

Severus was of half a mind to shout that 'no he bloody hadn't told him a blasted thing' but he refrained from doing so, if only to avoid Poppy flying off the handle at them both yet again.

"Who said you'd be taking him?"

"No one!"

"Temper temper," tutted Robertson. 'This wasn't fair! The healer thought that he could walk in my office and treat me like I'm some pertinacious student!'

"Calm down you lot," said Poppy, growing more and more irate at their childish behavior the longer that it persisted. If she didn't know better, she'd think that they had a thing for one another, because they were acting like school children with a crush on one another, where they both remained in denial about their feelings and thus argued as a way to vent their feelings and frustrations.

"Where will he be treated," asked Poppy trying to move things along.

"He'll be going to a children's hospital in Chelsea."

"Are the doctors their proficient enough at their jobs to handle a case like Potters," asked Severus, who told himself that he wasn't asking because he cared for Potter, he was only inquiring about such matters to assuage the Headmaster's fears in order to shut up the old fool when he inevitably discovered the secret.

"As a matter of fact, they are. I'm currently treating another wizarding child who is staying their fulltime."

"Well they obviously don't go to Hogwarts."

"Why doesn't Potter have to stay their fulltime," asked Severus praying to Merlin and all of his cohorts that Robertson would think things over and agree that perhaps it would be best for Potter to stay in hospital until his radiation was over, that way Severus would only have to tolerate the cheeky prat's presence, when he administered the potions to him.

"When possible, the patient's wishes are taken into consideration when planning their course of treatment, and Potter clearly wants to continue his education for as long as he's able. I've provided him a portkey that he can take to and from the hospital, so transportation isn't an issue."

"It's your call not mine," responded Severus.

"Studies have shown that children with cancer can become depressed without the constants in life that they've became accustomed too. Some children become depressed and withdrawn if they're withdrew from school. In addition, it gives him something else to think about besides the cancer."

Perusing the list of ingredients, Severus frowned. "Some of these ingredients are extremely rare. I doubt that Potter's trust fund is going to hold enough galleons to support the cost of them. Especially if the potions part of treatment is going to be for longer than eight weeks you know."

"I've thought about that," said Poppy "Didn't the Potters have a family vault in addition to his trust vault? I was under the impression that trust vaults are meant only to be used for a child's allowance. Surely they left him with more than that…"

"You're correct; I know just who to interrogate about Potter's finances, or lack their of."

"Whom?"

"Albus Dumbledore. He is Potter's magical guardian."

Poppy's face turned tomato red.

That man!

She had come to him with her allegations as a medical professional, and not only was he the Oath's Exception…he was his magical guardian as well! Surely he had done yearly inspections to ensure his golden Gryffindor's safety at home.

"His muggle treatment will be covered by the British Health Care system. They cover all necessary treatments and medications for children. However, the potions would have to be listed as clinical trials in the muggle world, because if they do their research no one will have heard of them before. And they aren't covered unless there are extenuating circumstances."

"Well every little bit helps right," said Poppy.

"No one asked for your chipper reassurances," snarled Severus.

"Chill out Mr. dungeons bat," retorted Poppy.

"And I dare say, in light of recent events," Severus stared at Poppy significantly. "Potter will now have additional finances that should cover the rest if I'm not mistaken."

"Though I'm at a loss as to where I'm going to obtain the amount of basilisk fangs that still have the venom sacks in tact…"

"Given what we've discussed this evening, I feel that some sort of insurance is necessary to keep the information under wraps," said Poppy.

"What are you asking of us? The unbreakable Vow?"

"I think that it's warranted. Are you afraid that you won't be able to keep your word Severus?"

"No of course not!"

"Will you consent to be our bonder Poppy," asked Robertson expecting a response in the negative, but getting the total opposite.

"Of course. I trust you both enough that I needn't worry about the repercussions of doing so," said Poppy confidently.

Poppy was too trusting; did she not realize that either of his masters might force Severus to tell them about the boy's condition?

Severus got on his knees and Robertson was soon to follow.

This wasn't the way Severus would've desired kneeling on his aching knees for; yes Robertson was a handsome bloke and all, but he was here as a potential colleague of Severus's not a fuck buddy, Severus reminded himself corralling his maudlin thoughts back into check.

Poppy stood on Severus's left side holding her wand in her hand firmly. He was astonished to notice that she wasn't shaking at the prospect of being their bonder.

..:..:..:..

Poppy's POV

"Now you clasp hands." Poppy instructed them even though they probably didn't need the explanation, the ritual required it of her.

Carefully plotting, Poppy thought of every clause that needed to be stated to cover both Potter's right to privacy and their rights as practicing healers and potions master respectively.

This was an unusual way to initiate the bond since traditionally, one of the kneelers were the ones to ask the question, but neither of the men before her seemed to be coherent enough to look out for all parties in the doing, so she did it, hoping that the bond still held.

"Will you two look out first and foremost for Harry James Potter's well fare when making decisions about his life, both health wise and emotionally?"

"I will," said both men in unison. A tongue of flame curled itself around both of their forearms, the flames licking their skin gently before dissipating.

Poppy continued. "And will you solemnly swear to protect the secrecy of the patient's identity from all parties unless medically necessary, even under duress?"

"I will," came their hesitant responses. The red flames wrapped around their forearms yet again, then dissipated more slowly this time.

"And will you promise to do whatever is necessary to ensure Mr. Potter's survival, no matter the cost?"

Knowing that it was too late to back out of it now, they reluctantly said, "I will," for the final time. The red flames surrounded their forearms, then disappeared for the last time.

"You may release the other's hand now. The Vow is complete. If you violate the terms of the vow, you will die a violent and agonizing death, thus is the conditions of the Unbreakable Vow."

Wiping the perspiration from her brow, Poppy let out a sigh of relief.

"Now that that unpleasantness is over, I best be going. I've got matters to take care of. I have to go have a talk with Minerva."

..:..:..:..

Harry's POV

After playing a few games of wizards chess and exploding snap following dinner with Neville because Ron was too busy snogging the living daylights out of Lavender to play, on a divan, right in the middle of the Gryffindor common room no less, (did he have no shame). Harry left the common room at a quarter till, and proceeded through deserted corridors, though he had to step hastily behind a statue when Professor Trelawney appeared around a corner, muttering to herself as she shuffled a pack of dirty-looking playing cards, reading them as she walked.

"Two of spades: conflict," she murmured, as she passed the place where Harry crouched, hidden. 'Ditto, I'm always in a conflict of sorts, somehow she knows I'm here and is reading the playing cards according to the story of my life.' "Seven of spades: an ill omen. Ten of spades: violence. Knave of spades: a dark young man, possibly troubled, one who dislikes the questioner—"

'I'm not denying that last one. But does her card game hold some truth? I could very well die a violent death this year: either at the hands of a megalomaniac, or by the drugs and potions weakening me just enough for me to die a horrible and slow death.' Thought Harry morbidly.

She stopped dead, right on the other side of Harry's statue.

"Well, that can't be right," she said, annoyed, and Harry heard her reshuffling vigorously as she set off again, leaving nothing but a whiff of cooking sherry behind her. Harry waited until he was quite sure she had gone, then hurried off again until he reached the spot in the seventh floor corridor where a single gargoyle stood against the wall in all of it's menacing glory.

"Acid Pops," said Harry, and the gargoyle leapt aside; the wall behind it slid apart, and a moving spiral stone staircase was revealed, onto which Harry stepped, so that he was carried in smooth circles up to the door with the brass lion shaped knocker that led to Dumbledore's office.

Harry paused before knocking to make sure that he had his best game face on. It wouldn't do at all for him to enter the Headmaster's office with an expression that belied his true feelings of utmost loathing and righteous contempt for the man within. He had to play the roll of the innocent, gullible, naive Gryffindor that Albus Dumbledore expected him to be, if Albus was going to tell him anything of import about Lord Voldemort.

After taking a moment to collect himself, Harry knocked.

"Come in," said Dumbledore's voice.

"Good evening, sir," said Harry politely, walking into the headmaster's office.

"Ah, good evening, Harry. Sit down," said Dumbledore, smiling. "I hope you've had an enjoyable first month and a half back at school?"

"Yes, thanks, sir," said Harry; this was clearly an outright lie. Over the last month and a half, he had to put up with Michael Corner's bullying tendencies of Ginny, suffered severe migraines, learned that he had a dangerously large brain tumor, he had to make the difficult decision to seek treatment, and now, he had to attend lessons with the Headmaster, whom he despised, though he had to hide that fact from the perceptive man who sat before him. Of course, Harry was unwilling to share any of this with the Headmaster. It had taken all of the courage he possessed to grant Poppy permission to tell Severus Snape his secret.

"You must have been busy, since you dropped your spot on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Why did you do that my boy?"

'I'm not anyone's fucking boy, much less yours!' thought Harry infuriated.

"Err," began Harry awkwardly, but Dumbledore did not look too stern.

"I can arrange your school schedule to allow you more time to work on stratageys for the team if that's why you quit."

"Right," said Harry noncommittally, who had more pressing matters on his mind than playing a ruddy sport, and now looked around surreptitiously for some indication of what Dumbledore was planning to do with him this evening.

The circular office looked just as it always did; the delicate silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, puffing smoke and whirring; portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses dozed in their frames, and Dumbledore's magnificent phoenix, Fawkes, stood on his perch behind the door, watching Harry with bright interest. It did not even look as though Dumbledore had cleared a space for dueling practice. And Harry was frankly astonished to see that no evidence of their little disagreement at the end of last term, had affected any of the Headmaster's peculiar instruments. They all seemed to be in perfect working order, it was as if Harry had never blew them to shambles.

Harry wasn't quite sure how that made him feel, because it was as if nothing had gone wrong; no one could prove now or ever that Albus Dumbledore had betrayed his trust.

Deciding that it was now or never, Harry asked putting on an air of shyness, "Headmaster, since all of the fifth and seventh years who were in the DA last term scored uncannily high on their defense marks, which implies that the DA really taught the students a lot. As we both are aware, the war is going to escalate soon, this little bubble of calm that we find ourselves in right now won't last, no matter how hard the Minister tries to persuade the wizarding world otherwise. So that's why I'm requesting your permission to start up the DA again. Hermione and I've already notified the members who are still at Hogwarts and we've invited others already…do we have your permission to have a meeting in the great hall tomorrow?"

Dumbledore beamed at the misdirection of Harry's. It became evident to Harry that Dumbledore thought that his weapon was playing right into his hands by consenting to send both himself and nearly helpless students into war, but what he didn't know was not everyone that was going to be involved would be following the leader of the light. And this would provide Harry with allies of his own who would be far from helpless when he got through with teaching them.

"Of course my boy," said Dumbledore clapping his hands together jovially. "And I'll grant the DA full sanction as a school club. That way, there's no chance of the group being disbanded like Umbridge did last year."

Dumbledore changed the subject to one that would hopefully sate Harry's curiosity with his next statement. "So, Harry," said Dumbledore, in a businesslike voice. "You have been wondering, I am sure, what I have planned for you during these — for want of a better word — lessons?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I have decided that it is time, now that you know what prompted Lord Voldemort to try and kill you fifteen years ago, for you to be given certain information. I also find it high time that I start training you up for your fight against Voldemort." There was a pause where Harry fumed. Didn't he promise him that night after the events at the Ministry that he had told him everything?

Harry voiced his thoughts.

"You said, at the end of last term, that you were going to tell me everything," said Harry. It was hard to keep a note of accusation from his voice. "Sir," he added as an afterthought.

"And so I did," said Dumbledore placidly. "I told you everything I know. From this point forth, we shall be leaving the firm foundation of fact and journeying together through the murky marshes of memory into thickets of wildest guesswork. From here on out, Harry, I may be as woefully wrong as Humphrey Belcher, who believed the time was ripe for a cheese cauldron."

"But you think you're right?" clarified Harry.

"Naturally I do, but as I have already proven to you, I make mistakes like the next man. In fact, being — forgive me — rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger." Harry had to fight back a comment that would give away his true opinion of the man in front of him. Yes, the Headmaster had made innumerous mistakes when it came to Harry, the one that was the greatest in Harry's humble opinion was leaving him in Petunia and Vernon's care, where he was abused, neglected, and belittled at every opportunity. Nothing that the man said or did could make up for the hell that had been his childhood.

Harry had never encountered a man who had a bigger God complex than Albus Dumbledore. For Merlin's sake, he acts like he's omniscient or something!

Continuing his budding acting skills Harry continued, seemingly complacent. "Sir," said Harry tentatively, "Does what you're going to tell me have anything to do with the prophecy? Will it help me… survive?"

"It has a very great deal to do with the prophecy," said Dumbledore, as casually as if Harry had asked him about the next day's weather, "And I certainly hope that it will help you to survive."

"In these lessons, we will be exploring memories which will mean that we're doing a lot of guesswork. For this particular memory, parseltoungue is used. As you know, Lord Voldemort and you are the only two wizards who are alive with the talent. I've watched the memory several times trying to piece the puzzle pieces together, and II must say I've done a fine job of it considering that most of the memory is interlaced with parseltoungue throughout. Can you translate what is being said for me?"

Harry entertained the idea momentarily of responding with a big fat 'no' just to see what the Headmaster would do, but thought better of it upon remembering that it would be easier to hold the DA meetings with his permission and restrained the urge with difficulty.

"Of course."

Dumbledore got to his feet and walked around the desk, past Harry, who turned eagerly in his seat to watch Dumbledore bending over the cabinet beside the door. When Dumbledore straightened up, he was holding a familiar shallow stone basin etched with odd ancient looking runes around its rim. He placed the Pensieve on the desk in front of Harry.

Harry had indeed been eyeing the Pensieve with some apprehension. His previous experiences with the odd device that stored and revealed thoughts and memories, though highly instructive, had also been uncomfortable. The last time he had disturbed its contents, he had seen much more than he would have wished, and his little excursions had ultimately led to Sirius's death because Severus refused cart blanch to teach him Occlumency after his breech of the man's privacy. But Dumbledore was smiling.

"This time, you enter the Pensieve with me… and, even more unusually, with permission."

"Where are we going, sir," asked Harry a bit apprehensively, for the last time he had entered someone else's memories, he had learned some hard truths about his father and his immature friends.

"For a trip down Bob Ogden's memory lane," said Dumbledore, pulling from his pocket a crystal bottle containing a swirling silvery-white substance.

"Who was Bob Ogden?"

"He was employed by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," said Dumbledore. "He died some time ago, but not before I had tracked him down and persuaded him to confide these recollections to me. We are about to accompany him on a visit he made in the course of his duties. If you will stand, Harry…"

But Dumbledore was having difficulty pulling out the stopper of the crystal bottle: His injured hand seemed stiff and painful. To make it even worse, the appendage was blackened and dead looking. Harry wouldn't be at all surprised if it became necrotic if Dumbledore didn't do something about it soon. He suddenly wished that the Headmaster had kept the glove on the hand until he left like he had been doing at mealtimes.

"Shall — shall I, sir?"

"No matter, Harry —"

Dumbledore pointed his wand at the bottle and the cork flew out.

"Sir — how did you injure your hand?" Harry asked unable to contain his curiosity any longer, looking at the blackened fingers with a mixture of revulsion and pity.

"Now is not the moment for that story, Harry. Not yet. We have an appointment with Bob Ogden." Harry's stomach clenched painfully at the mention of an appointment, because he had an appointment the next afternoon that he dreaded greatly.

Dumbledore tipped the silvery contents of the bottle into the Pensieve, where they swirled and shimmered, neither liquid nor gas. "After you," said Dumbledore, gesturing toward the bowl. Harry bent forward, took a deep breath, and plunged his face into the silvery substance. He felt his feet leave the office floor, and was suddenly assaulted by a bout of vertigo, though he was unable to tell if it stimmed from the sensation of Pensieve diving or if it was a new side-effect of the tumor rearing it's ugly head at last.

..:..:..:..

Harry's POV

Harry had never been more relieved to be back in the Headmaster's office and out of the memory than he was now. He had found it difficult to make his way through the memory due to a bout of dizziness that only now had begun to abait.

Harry had found himself semi-distracted during the memory because of this annoying symptom of his tumor. He both eagerly awaited the beginning of his treatment and feared what was to come.

Breaking the boy out of his thoughts, the Headmaster discussed the memory with Harry that they both had watched, talking about the Gaunts and their cruel treatment of Marope, the Muggle baiting that the son was accused of, and how Marope had seduced Tom Riddle Senior with a love potion.

Harry took the time to share his thoughts and feelings with the Headmaster, doing his best to keep his own dislike of the man out of his opinion. He couldn't afford for this information to be fruitless because of his own dislike for the man.

The leader of the Order then proceeded to instruct Harry on how to cast the Muffliato Charm. It took him several attempts to get the pronunciation just right but he finally got it right. The Headmaster beamed with pride. Stating, "This charm causes a buzzing sound in any listeners ears. This charm will allow you to discuss anything of any import privately, for instance this conversation with Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley. I chose to teach you this charm tonight because I knew that you would wish to share the content of these lessons with your closest friends. Some of the information in later lessons is of a rather sensative nature and we don't want it to reach the wrong ears."

"Thank you for teaching me this, but I haven't read of this charm before, why it isn't even in our sixth year charms book sir. Where did you learn of it?"

"I will teach you many spells, hexes, jinxes, and curses many of which I will be unable to tell you where I found out about them and if known by myself, who invented them. Let's just say that the creater of this charm and several other useful spells that I will teach you first have been invented by an old friend of mine. And no, I will not tell you the identity of this person; they have specifically requested to remain anonymous. Though they did all be it reluctantly give me permission to teach you these spells as they might be used by death eaters in a duel against you. That being said, what I am going to teach you will I dare say boost your spell repertoire a bit. While you already show great capability of magic I wish to increase your odds against potential foes."

"Okay, may I be dismissed sir?"

Harry was unsure how this unexpected spell tutoring made him feel. He sort of felt like the Headmaster was just teaching him how to fight better in part to make up for the way he had failed to protect him throughout his childhood. But it wouldn't do to turn his nose up at the Headmaster and refuse his aid.

"Yes you may," said Albus. "I'll contact you with the time of our next meeting by letter. I expect you to show up on time and ready to learn."

"Yes sir."

Harry hoped that their next lesson wouldn't take place for a few weeks so that he could have time to become adjusted to his potions and medication routine first. He dithered back and forth on whether or not to tell the Headmaster about his illness, logically knowing that the old man would notice the side-effects like hair loss and stuff but decided that their was no way that he would tell him before his friends found out. He was determined to have the Headmaster earn the knowledge by teaching him as a sign of good faith. Perhaps this was kind of Slytherin, using the man for his knowledge of spells and of his knowledge about Riddle and waiting to learn his money's worth before telling him about his cancer, but Harry didn't trust easily, especially once he had been wronged by someone in the past. Now it would be Dumbledore who was kept in the dark instead of Harry. Harry sussed that it would serve him right.

The sixth year went over to Fawkes, extending his hand and waiting for the bird's permission to pet him. The phoenix let out a quiet trill and Harry took that as a good sign and reached out, petting the bird's plumage.

He opened the door and made his way back to Gryffindor Tower. Not having brought the Marauder's Map with him, Harry was relieved not to run into Filch or Misses Norris.

"Gryffindor courage," said Harry to the Fat Lady. Her portrait opened to a nearly empty Gryffindor common room.

Harry smiled as Ron and Hermione were waiting up for him.

"Hey guys, you'll never guess what happened during my conversation with the Headmaster," said Harry eager to tell his friends all about the Gaunts and about the great potential that these lessons might give him. "But first I've got to cast a new charm that the professor taught me."

"So he's going to teach you some useful magic is he," asked Hermione excitedly.

"Perhaps," said Harry, pulling his wand out of his pocket and casting the muffliato charm for privacy before taking the plunge and filling in his friends.

..:..

Poppy's POV

Madame Pomfrey got into bed, reflecting upon the conversation that she had had with Minerva. For it had taken her several moments to consol the woman after she had filled her in about Harry's condition. She had told her about the Quidditch injury as well. She had also taken the time to talk to her colleague about the boy's overall health.

After some time, she had persuaded the stern professor that Harry would be fine on his trips outside of the castle, which was her main objective. The healer had been glad that she had talked to her even though Harry had already done so, as he had in his typical manner glossed over how bad his Quidditch accident and cancer were. He was a real sweetheart, always wanting others to feel better and not wanting them to worry. But to his credit, he had told the transfiguration about the brain tumor hadn't he?

Before she knew it, the medi-witch found herself in the realm of dreams.

..:..

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I have decided that Severus gave the Headmaster the spells and stuff found in the HBP textbook as in cannon the death eaters know some of them and they are used. Obviously since the book isn't used here, I had to have Severus tell one of his master's about these spells. If Voldemort asks, he'll tell him that the Headmaster coerced him into giving up the information. Given the limited time that Albus has to train Harry, he really needed access to some stuff to teach him, though this will probably not be revealed in the fic directly.

I hope that the bit I borrowed from cannon doesn't bother you to much. I have a question to ask you, I plan on touching briefly on the horcrux memories, do you want me to use the cannon text in the fic to help it make more sense or just to gloss over that part?


	10. Chapter 10: Dumbledore's Army

Diagnosis

A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews.

Disclaimer: I'm not wealthy, nor do I own the rights to this series. I'm just trying my hand at some amiture writing.

Chapter 10: Dumbledore's Army

..:..

Harry awoke early on Saturday morning well rested after the very strenuous day he had endured the day prior. Sitting up and crawling to the foot of his bed (with the hangings firmly closed) Harry grabbed his pajamas from the bottom of the bed; he rarely slept in anything other than his underclothes, but more often than not, he went to bed in the nude. Last night was no different, and even though he was certain that his roommates were still fast asleep, Harry really REALLY didn't fancy giving them a show. So he put on the pajamas and pulled open the hangings in preparation for greeting the day ahead.

Harry quietly got up and retrieved his clean but ratty old clothes. Deciding to take a shower in the hopes that by the time he was done Neville would be up to talk to him before he had to go to the hospital wing for his embarrassing but necessary obligation.

Neville had promised he would after Harry had returned last night. It troubled him how Merope's so-called family had belittled and demeaned her because of her near squibhood. They didn't even once stop to consider that it was their wretched abuse that caused her faltering magic. Was this what Dumbledore's lessons were supposed to convey to him? That Tom Riddle's fate could've very easily been his, although Riddle had grown up without family in an orphanage, if the false memory that Tom Riddle had shown him from the diary in his first year was accurate about his home-life where he was neglected if not physically abused? After all, Harry grew up with a family who were supposed to care for him, but abused and neglected him to the point of starvation; with the threat of being chucked in an orphanage constantly held over his head where (his relatives falsely claimed) that he'd be tortured and sexually abused then hoisted off to a family where the Dursleys treatment was child's play in comparison.

If one really thought deeply into the matter, they'd clearly notice the similarities of Lord Voldemort and his childhoods. Though Harry furtively believed that one being abused as a child doesn't excuse them growing up to become abusers in return.

Shaking himself out of his dark thoughts, Harry grabbed the bundle of his clean clothes from the bedside table–a ratty old pair of jeans and a jumper which he planned to wear under his wizarding robes for his appointment into muggle territory later in the afternoon. He was very glad that he remembered to do so, that way all he'd have to do before going into muggle land was remove his robes; this was far more simpler than having to transfigure his robes into another outfit that was more suitable for the occasion. Because transfigurations were notorious for switching back into the original item if the spell was cast incorrectly (and Harry's transfiguration skills weren't what his dad's were). He couldn't go into hospital wearing what for all intents and purposes looked like a muggle woman's dress to his appointment at the cancer hospital after all.

Even if his muggle clothes were far from decent; as far as he knew, looking like a poor pauper wasn't exactly the new fad…but what did he know, he really hadn't been in touch with the muggle world for more than the summertime's ever since he had started at Hogwarts.

Once he entered the shower room, Harry placed his neatly folded clothes on the counter before turning on the shower.

Stepping into the warm spray, Harry relaxed for the first time in three days. Ever since the incident in the hospital wing where he had threatened to end it all on Wednesday, his nerves had remained as tight as a bow with an arrow attached, where the bow could twang back and let fly the arrow at any moment, or in Harry's case, the imminent and eventually inevitable breakdown that was to come at the knowledge of his impending cancer treatment.

Harry scratched his left arm, noticing the peculiar red blotches that covered his skin. What were they from? Was their just something that made his magic go all wonky whenever needles were involved in his treatment of any ailment of any kind? Because this wasn't the first time he had noticed redness and had his skin itch like mad after going to hospital or having a blood draw. But it went away last time this happened, so I'll just give it time. No need to tell Poppy about it, it'd only freak her out in misguided concern for him. On some level of his subconscious he knew that this attitude of seeming carelessness with his health was a product of the Dursleys abuse.

Picking up the bottle of shampoo Harry squirted some into his hand and began to massage his scalp, rubbing the shampoo in, then rinsing his hair thoroughly. With a pang of uneasiness and sadness, Harry realized that this task would soon be unnecessary as the treatment would likely make all of his raven black hair fall out. This would cut his ordinarily short shower routine even more…but he still had his hair, and he could put away such feelings of dread aside for the time being.

A few minutes later, Harry turned off the tap, then stepped out, grabbing a fluffy towel from the stack of towels that the Hogwarts house elves left out for the students on a daily basis.

Harry hurriedly got dressed then took on the arduous job of combing his thick hair while listening to the magical mirror insulting both his choice of dress and the futility of fighting the losing battle with his hair.

Snatching his toothbrush from the counter, Harry brushed his teeth in record time; the ruddy mirror was really getting under his skin this morning with it's constant nagging and insults. Just before he was about to stalk out of the room in a huff, he remembered that it might be a good idea for him to use the mirror who had just gotten through yet another round of criticisms about muggle raised teens these days, to have a look at his arm.

With a feeling of slight apprehension, Harry pushed up his sleeves and glanced down…but what he saw their shocked him to the very core

The skin was now blood red, and where before their were blotches of redness now in their place were angry red welts.

What was he going to do?

Tell Neville or Poppy?

No, that just wouldn't do; Neville wouldn't know the cause for such a problem, and Poppy would smother him with concern. Performing any magical test on him known to man and he was going to have to endure a battery of muggle testing later; that was enough testing for one day in his opinion. And this would prevent him from holding the first D.A. meeting today, since he had to be at hospital at one.

He would be fine until healer–doctor Robertson met them at the muggle hospital later on. He had to remind himself to stop calling him his healer, because if he slipped up later, it could make for awkward questions, to which their would be no plausible answer that he could give to the muggles.

Grabbing his pajamas and toothbrush, Harry pushed the door open and tossed his barely dirty pajamas into the hamper situated in the sixth year boy's dorm, where the elves would collect it to be washed and then returned to him after it was dry.

"Hey,"muttered a groggy Neville.

"Look what the troll drug in from the wash room."

"Shut it you," said Harry teasingly.

"I have a nagging feeling that our roommates would appreciate it if we took our conversation elsewhere," said Harry, forgetting that a simple silencing charm would do the trick.

"Nah mate. That's too much trouble for my tired self. Let's just sit on my bed. If I draw the curtains and cast a silencing charm, we won't be disturbed."

"How silly of me to forget something so elementary. It's rudimentary charms. Gees, I swear, sometimes being muggle raised really has it's drawbacks when it comes to wizarding common sense," said Harry self-deprecatingly.

"Stop beating yourself up Harry. I was as clueless about simple muggle things when I first started venturing into the muggle world. Don't sweat it."

"What did you see fit to go into the muggle world for, when wizarding pureblood families usually degrade them for their technology and stuff?"

"The Longbottom family doesn't hold the same ideology as say the Nott's or the Zabini's. We have nothing against muggles. That doesn't mean however that we're complacent and careless when it comes to ensuring the statute of secrecy. Because the technology that muggles have concocted especially in the way of warfare is astounding and troubling. If they found out about us and the imminent threat that you-know-who poses to them, they'd wipe us out with a nuclear bomb."

"To right," said Harry. "But how'd you find out about nuclear bombs?"

"Elisa drug me to the cinema to see a film over the summer. It was about America and Russia's disagreement and the Soviet Union. According to the film, the events depicted in the film were fictitious…you just never know though. So when in doubt, it's best to air on the side of caution," Neville chuckled. "I had to persuade Elisa that it was best that we got back to hospital for her next chemotherapy treatment, lest the main antagonist villain swoop down and get her. The hilarious part is that she took me deadly serious."

Harry tried to hold in his laughter–he really did, but he just couldn't do it anymore.

"R-really," choked out Harry amidst gales of laughter. "So the muggles are going to torpedo us all if the dark lord isn't vanquished. I didn't know that you had started going all Mad-Eye Moody on us now mate." Harry said this in complete and utter jest, but unfortunately, it could become a reality. Now for the first time, he was able to fully appreciate the seriousness and necessity of the statute of secrecy that nearly got him expelled in the summer of his fifth year.

"How am I supposed to know," said Neville raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'm not the chosen one, who's destined to destroy the evil megalomaniac." Neville had no idea just how completely true his words were, or how close he was to becoming the boy-who-lived instead of Harry. At times, Harry wished that he hadn't had that roll thrust upon him, but then his parents would be the ones in St. Mongo's and that was a fate worse than death. Not to mention how much more equip his hard life had made him for the fight ahead.

Checking the time with a tempus, Harry decided that whilst their playing around had been fun, he had things to do this morning–like visit Poppy, locate and take his meds, get things set up for the DA…and the list just went on and on and all of that was before lunchtime rolls around.

Getting to the point as to why Neville had gotten up at the crack of dawn to talk to him in the first place, Harry asked in a serious tone. "Last night, I asked you if you had any information about my different options by which my potions and other potential life-saving medications can be delivered by. Can you tell me more about them?"

"Well, as healer Robertson already told you, the Hickman line will be inserted in your upper right chest, just below the collar bone into either a vein or blood vessel…I can never remember which is which. Four tubes will be protruding from the spot on your chest. And according to Elisa, the Hickman will be taped to your upper 'belly' as she so eloquently puts it. The Hickman is more visible to others…and I know how much that would annoy you. There's the additional risk of an opponent in battle ripping the device out of your chest. This would cause you to start bleeding pretty badly. I'm not trying to scare you, but for most patients such a risk of bleeding if it's removed isn't a risk thus the doctors don't usually share this information with the patient. But your situation is unique and I thought you might want to be aware of this when making your decision. However, Elisa has the Hickman because it involves next to no needle sticks."

Harry gnawed his lip. If everything hadn't been so complicated and he hadn't been famous, where anyone could sell a wizarding photograph to the Daily Profet of the scary sounding device where it would be published in the paper, and if Voldemort hadn't been after his blood, where the risk of it being dislodged during the heat of battle wasn't a possibility, then he wouldn't need to hear about the other option. Because the Hickman sounded like the best option–especially since it would involve him never having to deal with needle sticks, unless something out-of-the-ordinary happened…

But alas his life was far from simple. Hence the decision couldn't be based on a what-if scenario, because he was famous, and as Seamus's little stunt with his t-shirt had so thoroughly proven, his acquaintances might sell the information that he had need of a medical device to a reporter, and Voldemort wasn't dead. Harry was going to need every advantage possible if he was going to beat him, and this included not having a line of tubing hanging from his chest…well not really hanging since it would be taped to his body…but if Voldemort ever found out that all he had to do to cause him to start bleeding like crazy was to yank the device out, he would. And Harry had no intentions to handicap himself anymore than his cancer already would in the upcoming war.

"Are their any other lines that are less bulky, but that would still not involve the necessity of needle sticks," asked Harry hesitantly.

"According to Elisa, her friend Lucy has another type of central line, but healer Robertson didn't mention it to you, so I suspect that for some reason or other, it isn't an option for you. Besides, any type of central line, i.e. the Hickman or other central line, require a lot of maintenance care. If you still want to keep this as secret as possible, either of these two choices raises the risk of one of our dorm mates seeing you flush the device with heparin daily, and it's bound to raise questions…"

"And this flushing process has to be done every day," asked Harry of his friend, knowing that since he only recently met his cousin, that he only knew a little more than Harry did when it came to this whole cancer business.

"From what I understand, yes. The flushing process is absolutely necessary both to help prevent infection from entering your body, and so that the medication used to treat your cancer, be it chemotherapy or the potions that you'll be taking, are very toxic and aren't supposed to be mixed, therefore the device must be flushed to prevent that from happening."

Harry was amazed at how knowledgeable Neville sounded about this; it reassured him slightly to know that he had at least one friend who truly understood what he was going through–or as well as a friend could who didn't have cancer.

"What about that port thingy?"

"I haven't really heard that much about that one mate," said Neville apologetically. "But like healer Robertson said, it will involve more needle sticks. Which makes me suspect that their isn't a line in place all of the time, and that that's why the needle sticks are necessary before every treatment session."

Harry gulped.

That didn't sound at all pleasant, but it was looking more and more like the best option he had.

"Nev," asked Harry uncharacteristically shyly.

"Yeah."

"Was your offer to accompany me to hospital a legitimate one?"

"Sure thing. I would never say such a thing unless I intended on carrying through with it. You should know me better than that…"

Harry's eyes moistened slightly at his friend's perceived kindness. No one had willingly offered to go with him to hospital before…but then again, all of the previous hospital visits that the Dursleys took him to, they had caused…so they didn't really count now did they?

"Last night, when you came in, you were to tired to notice, but someone put a note on top of your trunk. Here let me get it for you," offered Neville getting off his bed once he had drawn back the hangings once more to get said missive.

Taking the proffered bit of parchment from his friend, Harry recognized the handwriting; it was from Hermione.

The note was concise and to the point.

Harry:

Both requests you made of me have been completed; the galleons have been set to the approximate date and time of the meeting by now, and word has had ample time to get around to anyone else where and when the meeting is. I should warn you though, Colin has inspired others to come to the meeting, and I can't help but be curious as to their true reasoning for attending; I fear that he's started up a fan club in your honor regretfully. I snuck up to your dorm as you must've sussed out by now, with the dual purpose of placing this note on your trunk and to ward your trunk to ensure against further thievery of your possessions.

Hermione

"I don't believe it," hissed Harry furiously.

"What is it," asked Neville.

"You know that Creevey kid who walks around with a camera, he's always been a little over zealous when it comes to anything to do with me. He's a big fan of mine," said Harry with disgust that someone could worship him so devotedly. "He's gone and started up a bloody fan club that's all about the boy-who-lived. So expect lots of giggling rabid fan girls to put a kink in things today."

"That's bloody fantastic," said Neville facetiously. "We're really going to accomplish a lot today."

"Yeah I know. We won't even have to take a moment to fix people's misconceptions about me, now that the fans of Harry Potter, wizard extraordinaire have arrived to fill everyone in for us," said Harry his voice dripping with sarcasm.

With a sigh, Harry declared. "I best be off to the hospital wing. If I don't get down their soon, I suspect she's going to send a search party."

..:..:..:..

Fifteen minutes later, Harry arrived outside the wooden double doors that led to Poppy's sanctuary.

Harry was surprised to say the least when he saw Poppy bustling around the ward doing the necessary tasks that come with the job of being Hogwarts only medi-witch so early when their were currently no patients for once.

"Hey."

Poppy jumped like Lucius Malfoy himself was after her, upon hearing an unexpected voice from just behind her.

Putting a hand to her mouth in shock Poppy said. "Pleased to see you on this fine morning Mr. Potter. But don't you think you overdid the shock factor a bit?"

"Nah," said Harry smiling. "Since you were the one to whom I was told to come to make my contribution to the "Little Harry's Orphaned Children's fund" after all," said Harry seemingly nonplused.

"That's not funny Harry. First off, there's no need for you to be so glib about matters. Your children will not become orphans. I've got full faith that a combination of your loving friends and the muggle and magical treatment will pull you through no matter your prognosis."

"Thanks for your optimism, but science beats hopes and dreams every time."

"Is Mr. Longbottom going to accompany you and Professor Snape-"

Harry cut in before she could continue. "Woe! Wait just a minute. When I told you that you could tell the professor about my condition and that he could brew the potions for me, their was never anything mentioned about him playing nurse maid to me."

Poppy tried to suppress the smile that was bursting to break out on her lips. "Funny, those are the exact words that Professor Snape said when healer Robertson and I told him last night. You know that I would take you if I could, but I've got to stay here to take care of any wayward students who manage to injure themselves in the meantime. You've got nothing to worry about. I assure you that Professor Snape will comport himself with the proper decorum demanded of someone of his position."

"Whatever," muttered Harry none the happier for her meaningless platitudes. "You really think that Neville will agree to come now that his most feared professor is tagging along?"

"If Severus gives you any grief, feel free to let me know when you arrive back here tomorrow."

"W-what did you say? I'm going to have to stay the night in Hospital?"

"Yes, the doctors could allow you to come home and then return tomorrow for your procedure to implant the device for your treatment, but they want to make sure that your vitals are stable throughout the night and that you don't eat or drink anything after midnight."

"Oh pleeeaaassseeeee don't tell me that Professor Snape is going to be forced to be their all night to hold my hand!"

"No. Unless you wish for him too," shot back Poppy slyly.

"What's stopping him from leaving either Neville or myself stranded at the hospital tomorrow "accidentally?"

"…Nothing, but he wouldn't dare lest he suffers my wrath. But that's besides the point since you have your bracelet as a last line of defense. Never forget that."

Changing the subject abruptly, Harry asked. "Um, Poppy?"

"Yes."

"How am I going to pay for my treatment? Isn't my muggle treatment alone going to be quite costly?"

"Probably, but in the UK all children under sixteen, and those sixteen through eighteen who are in school are qualified for their medical costs to be taken care of courtesy of the NHS, (National Health Service). And that includes children undergoing cancer treatments. Though your potions won't be covered since we have to write them into the muggle paperwork as clinical trials which aren't always covered."

Harry rubbed his hands together nervously. "I'll still be able to get them won't I?"

"The Potters left you with a decent amount of gold, you needn't worry about costs, especially since a certain black dog has gone into the great beyond," said Poppy looking at Harry significantly.

Woe! Hold on a minute, how did Poppy know about Sirius, let alone that he left a substantial amount of his earthly possessions to me when Dumbledore only told me that last night after the viewing of the memory?

Seeing the stunned expression on Harry's face, Poppy hastily reassured, "I am a member of the Order. And I'm aware of the previous owner of Headquarters identity and that they were innocent. As well as the fact that he wished for only the best for you. It isn't that hard to deduce given that knowledge, that he would leave his gold and the decrepit old house to you to do with as you will, because who else did he have to leave it too? Since most of his remaining family members are either dead, formally disowned (which means that they can't officially be bequieved anything in the will directly), or battier than a senile old man with a long white beard."

Harry laughed bitterly. "I doubt that covering my cancer treatments is what he intended me to use the money for. Knowing him, he left it to me with the hopes that it would all go towards a vicious prank war between Gryffindor and Slytherin."

"And when not if you recover, you can use the remaining funds to live your life to the fullest. So you will still indirectly be using it to ensure your ultimate happiness. That's all any godfather could want for their only charge."

"Um, I kinda need to go back to my dorm and get my pills to take during breakfast, so I sort of need to get on with things if you know what I mean," gestured Harry awkwardly.

"Ah, yes…well then. Come right this way."

Harry followed Poppy sheepishly. This was to date the most humiliating thing he had to do; how was he expected to 'get off' with a woman who he considered a paternal figure standing right outside the door?

Harry reached out hastily and grabbed the empty plastic cup with a lid atop it and entered the lavatory door that Poppy had led him too.

When he was finished, Harry left the cup of his DNA sitting on a counter in the loo, washed his hands and did his best to walk out as calmly as could be, as if nothing awkward and embarrassing had just happened. This wasn't the way he envisioned making babies, but if the radiotherapy made him sterile, then he would be shooting blanks for the rest of his life; this could be his only chance.

"Do you have any questions for me before you leave," asked Poppy ever the professional, acting as if she didn't know what had been going on only moments ago behind that locked door.

"Do you happen to have a spare pill so that I don't have to go back to my dorm and get one before breakfast?"

"Yes, I thought that your nerves might be a bit high strung this morning, so I had your healer give me a dose for just this occasion. Have you even looked at the bottle," asked Poppy, suspecting that after yesterday it might've slipped his mind that he had to take the pills.

"Erm, when I got back yesterday after the meeting with Albus, the one that I told you about a while ago, I was to emotionally spent to remember to take them."

"That's quite alright," said Poppy reassuringly. "But just don't make a habit of it. Cancer patients sometimes think that they don't have to adhere strictly to their drug regimen, but it's vital that you do so. Over the next few days, you will be given all of the medications that you will need to take and a schedule of times and days that you need to take them. Some drugs are absorbed by your body faster than others, and if your dosing schedule gets off even by a little, the effects can be dangerous if one drugs level gets to high, you could OD just by a simple miscalculation. Consequently, if the drug gets below it's therapeutic level (too low) you need to let someone know so that we can take preventative measures. During your cancer treatment, if the drug is taken to often or not often enough this will make your cancer treatment less effective than if you had followed the instructions carefully. Everyone makes mistakes,and it's possible that at times during your treatment, you'll fall violently ill, so much so that you won't be able to keep the drugs down if you take them orally; that's why there'll be a small supply of the drugs you'll need throughout the course of treatment here so that I or Severus can give you the drug interveniously. I'm not trying to scare you, but you need to know that if your steroids specify that you take them at noon, that doesn't mean two as to hide it from people, it means noon. I'm sorry that you must deal with the facts of life that come hand and hand with being a cancer patient. Healer Robertson and myself will do our best to make the transition easier for you. If you miss a dose once the drugs have been in your system for over a week, it's crucial that you let one of us know as soon as possible. And don't forget, Severus now knows of your circumstances so he can help you too."

Harry blushed.

"So which steroid am I on? The leaflet that I read yesterday said that people who are given radiotherapy for brain tumors often times take dexamethasone, is that what I'll be taking? And how many times a day do I take it?"

"No. You'll be taking prednisone; it's similar to dexamethasone. It just has less severe side-effects. Prednisone is taken three times a day, for the first two weeks,, healer Robertson prescribed two pills each for breakfast and lunch, then one for dinner. For weeks three and four of the radiation treatment, you take two pills for breakfast, and one each for lunch and dinner consecutively. And your maintenance dose (which is to be taken until you're tumor free) is one pill by mouth at each meal. Now that should be easy to remember, which makes me wonder if you even looked at the bottle at all," admonished Poppy.

Harry shook his head sheepishly.

"I'm really sorry for that Poppy. I shouldn't have forgotten about the pills no matter what cayodic things happened or will happen in my life. I'm the boy-who-lived, and certain expectations are required of me, and I can't let my own illness get in the way of those aspects no matter what!"

Harry was grateful in a sense that Poppy remained very much ignorant of the prophecy, because if she knew about it, she'd be all in a tizzy after his previous statement; saying meaningless platitudes like "The fate of the wizarding world doesn't lay on your shoulders alone." Or "It wasn't your fault, you-know-who murdered so-and-so, not you." Harry really wasn't in the mood to listen to such, consequently, he decided to wait until things calmed down a bit to tell her the contents of the prophecy. He felt the need to confide all in someone, but now wasn't the time.

"It's not a big deal that you missed your first dose. You're going to have to do better from now on though," chided Poppy mildly.

"Got it."

"The steroid that you'll be taking has fewer side-effects than some, but more than others. Firstly, it's recommended that you take prednisone on a full stomach in order to prevent the nausea from worsening. Other side-effects include, weight gain, night sweats, inability to sleep, feeling of hunger, acne, bruising of the skin, redness of the skin etc, frequent urination, dizziness, blurry vision, if you're taking the drug for an extended period of time brittle bones and sugar and protein in urine (which is a sign of either long term or short term diabetes), changes in mood or behavior…"

"That's enough," said Harry worriedly. "I can't listen to any more side-effects just now. If I start having any more side-effects, I'll come and see you if it's alright with you. I just can't sit here and listen to the ever-increasing list of horrid side-effects that all of the potions and pills and radiation waves are going to affect my body any longer."

Putting a soothing hand on her patient's shoulder, Poppy said "I understand. You can get through this. Though I must warn you that allergic reactions to prednisone are particularly unpleasant. You need to alert the closest person around you if your tongue swells, you get hives, your face swells, or your throat swells to the point where it's uncomfortable to breathe, as these are all signs of Anaphylactic shock and the patient requires immediate assistance to breathe if that happens."

Some people might criticize Poppy for informing her patient of the more severe side-effects of the drugs that they'll be taking, but Poppy knew that for this particular patient, he would rather her tell him the brutal truth about things than for her to sugar-code it in a misguided attempt to protect him from the horrible side-effects of the various drugs and therapies that a cancer patient might experience.

"Thanks for being straight with me," said Harry swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Here is your morning dose," said Poppy handing him two very small pills. "I'll have Dobby bring you some soup to eat before you take them. What's your favorite soup?"

"If it's Dobby who'll be bringing it up, ask him if it's too much trouble for him to bring me some of that scrumptious potato soup that he makes. And if he raises any objections to me having soup for breakfast, just make him think that I'm ill in the hospital and my stomach can't handle anything else. I'm really craving some good old homemade potato soup. Right about now."

Poppy chuckled. "Dobby is your biggest fan; I don't think he'd ever tell the infamous Harry Potter 'no."

Harry grinned.

"You're right."

After enjoying a very tasty soup for breakfast, Harry took a swig of the doctored pumpkin juice and quickly swallowed the tiny pills.

"Bleh!"

"Steroids often times leave a bitter aftertaste. I'd suggest you try swallowing them with a drink that has a particularly strong flavor to disguise the bitterness."

"Why can't medications or potions for that matter, ever taste pleasant?"

"Because then teenagers would make it a habit to imbibe in drugs and potions instead of just mere alcoholic beverages more than they already do."

A light bulb went off in Harry's brain. "Um, can house elves procure any muggle fizzy drinks?"

"I honestly don't know. But I'll ask Dobby if you'd like. Because if any house elf has the ingenuity to pull a stunt like that off, it'd be him. Why do you want muggle fizzy drinks though?"

"You suggested that I start taking the prednisone with a drink with a strong flavor, and cola has a very appealing and pungent taste. Plus, the Dursleys only let me have cola one time at an outing that they were forced to drag me along to, when Mrs. Figg was unable to watch me. A nice lady at the concession stand saw that they weren't going to order me anything, so she made it seem like her error then she made an extra cola for me. Uncle Vernon tried to persuade her that he didn't have the money for his nephew to have a drink, but she proceeded to inform him that the cola was "on the house"; you said that I should fulfill everything on my list, and having cola with a meal would make me happy."

Harry suspected that part of Poppy's sudden and unquestioning attitude stimmed from regret over his wretched childhood, but at this very moment, he couldn't bring himself to care why she agreed, just that in the end, she did acquiesce. "AL righty then. Is their anything else that I can do for you? If not, then I'd highly recommend that you get a move on if you want to keep up appearances to your friends."

"Um, there's one other thing…"

"What is it Harry?"

"Do you have a piece of parchment and a quill that I can use to write a short letter?"

"Sure. Give me a minute to go get it."

Once Poppy had returned from her office, Harry took the proffered parchment, quill and ink pot from Poppy and began to write a letter, taking particular care not to say to much in case the letter was intercepted on it's way to Headquarters.

Dear Moony:

Things have been rather eventful around here. I can't say everything that I need to say to you in a letter; do you have any idea where the brother mirror to Padfoot's is? The head chicken of the flock of birds told me that you'll be departing to do some "recruiting of those like yourself" and I know that that more than likely means that you won't be around for a while. I broke my brother to Padfoot's mirror, but since I'm pretty sure he didn't have it on him at the DOM, I suspect that you'll find it if you search in his bedroom for it. If we can find a matching set, please ensure that one heads in my direction. But that being said, that isn't why I put quill to parchment in the first place: I was wondering if there was any way that you could procure a Boggart for me. It'd be used for the same reason that we used it for during my private lessons. The club is starting up again, and people need at least a sudo specter of what they could encounter one day in order to get the hang of the charm. Hope to hear from you again soon.

Sincerely:

Prongs JR.

Harry blew on the parchment to make the ink dry quicker than it would on it's own. He was rather pleased, because if the letter did wind up in the wrong hands, no one would have a clue what the letter was concerning. Also, he liked how he mocked Dumbledore's position as the Head of the Order of the Phoenix and all of his other titles and he was sure that Remus would get a kick out of it too. Both Remus and himself were still grieving, one could only hope that this bit of humor would brighten Remus's mood as he started his journey to the camps where he would infiltrate the homes of as of yet undeclared werewolves where he would attempt to gain their favor and persuade them not to adopt Greybacks ideals, or join Voldemort.

"And Poppy, could you make sure that this letter gets to Remus Lupin in a timely manner? I suspect that you can get it to him faster than I could, what with the security measures that have been put into place regarding our mail coming and going from the castle at odd hours of the day."

"Of course,, Harry."

..:..:..:..

Draco's POV

"Hey Pans," asked Draco quietly as he and his usual entourage of friends lounged around on the comfortable but very austentious looking furniture in the Slytherin common room on a bright and sunny fall morning.

"Haven't I told you time and time again not to call me that," hissed Pansy her cheeks stained Weasley red at the ridiculous and childish nickname.

"Yeah," said Draco flippantly. "But haven't I also forbid you to call me that incessant nickname of which you do?"

"I would never, Dray," said Pansy in a falsely sweet voice.

"You just bloody well did," retorted Draco indignantly. "A pureblood like yourself should comport oneself with more grace, maturity, dignity, and finesse than you do." Draco's hurtful words stung Pansy like nothing he had ever said before.

She bit her lip, holding back the tears that prickled her eyelids. It had been beaten into her that pureblood ladies never cry in front of others. Especially if such emotional temper tantrums were caused by a thoughtless and hurtful action or the words of friend.

"What did you want," asked Pansy hotly.

"To know if you are planning on attending Potter's defense club today in the great hall or not. I know that you're aware that he's holding court their today with all of his little admirers, since you were sitting near him and that firsty he came to sit with the other evening at dinner."

"What is it to you? I assume that you won't be attending, given that you're still under your daddy's thumb now that the Ministry so graciously pardoned him after a good amount of gold changed hands."

Blaise and Millie were unusually quiet this morning.

"I won't be attending this meeting, because Daphne as so kindly agreed to go to the first meeting to scout things out for me. Since it's the first meeting since we played a part in breaking up the illegal club last year, I doubt that any of his friends will be glad to see me so soon. Potter is probably going to spend most of the meeting explaining things to the newcomers anyways."

"Do you reckon that I ought to go," inquired Pansy. "Because I was their with you in Umbridge's office that night when Potter's little allies fought back and got the upper hand on us. I wonder if he's going to recount what happened…you know for the club to review the duel that ensued…strictly for educational purposes of course."

"I doubt that Granger will let him humiliate anyone their who was directly involved anyways. Her moral compass is to accurate enough for her to allow such shenanigans to go on; she'll see right through either his or Weasley's attempts to damage our reputations any further than they already are after we participated in the Inquisitor's squad."

Both Pansy and Millie were utterly shocked at Draco's willing admittance that he was in the wrong, even just a little bit. It was very uncharacteristic of him to do so. Maybe their friend really had began to change for the better.

Both girls contemplations were rudely interrupted when Daphne Greengrass walked down the girls staircase; the Slytherin girl, who was dubbed the ice queen of Slytherin strode down the stairs with a heir of grace about her.

"What has you lot up so early on a Saturday morning," asked Daphne even though she had her suspicions that they might be going the same place she was.

"We're just having an intelligent four-way conversation of which you weren't invited to join," said Millicent coolly. In truth, she had been silent until this point, but it was none of Greengrass's business regardless.

"Fine. Be that way," replied Daphne coolly. "But Draco, Astoria was sorely disappointed the other day when you blew her off."

"Did she ever think that I did so because I was looking out for the both of our interests?"

"You prat. She only wanted help with ancient runes. I don't like what you're insinuating about my little sister Malfoy. Your father already has plans for your betroved does he not?"

"Yes," spluttered Draco furiously. "But I will never acquiesce to his demands. No offense Pansy, but I really don't like you that way."

A sense of relief flooded Pansy's body. For so long, she had been worried that Draco might out of some family obligation want to marry her as a trophy wife and screw men on the down low.

"But you do realize what that'll in tale Draco," said Pansy kindly. "Your father will probably disown you if he finds out."

"Just between the five of us, I don't care one iota what Lucius cares about me. He's dictated my life for too long."

"Interesting…" said Daphne.

"Good for you," said Pansy in a chipper voice. "So does that mean that you won't be taking the mark over Christmas?"

"I-I honestly don't know yet..." Draco said trailing off deliberately, because lately he had been contemplating perhaps becoming a spy for the light side, or just remaining neutral in the war. He knew that if he didn't make up his mind soon, then he'd have blood on his hands come December and the Christmas hols, because Lucius had made it quite clear before he was carted off to Azkaban that he would take the mark by then, willingly or unwillingly. And he had heard from a very reliable source that the initiation process involved you murdering someone or seriously injuring them. He could do it, if such heinous acts were to help save the lives of his friends, but he could no longer honestly say that he would join the dark lord just because he believed in his twisted ideology's anymore.

"Oi Draco," said Millie snapping her fingers in front of his face to gain his attention once more. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, never better," said Draco evasively.

"Well, if there's one thing I know for sure," said Daphne, feeling safe to reveal this to these people before her because, one of them she knew was her best friend and had no intentions of ratting her out for her opinion, and the other, someone who she could threaten into keeping his mouth shut if necessary. "I don't have any intentions of joining the dark lord."

"So then you'll be fighting on Dumbledore's side eh," said Blaise who had never pretended that he was going to remain anything but neutral in this war.

"I never said that. The man has talked about the inequality of the wizarding world, but has of yet not done anything about it. He is a member of the Wizengamot and therefore has the power to do something about it. And he speaks of uniting the houses but does nothing about it. He treats us Slytherins like we're somehow worth less because we're not Gryffindors," stated Daphne confidently, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"True," agreed Draco. "This has all been interesting, but I've got somewhere to be."

"It's not time…" Pansy broke off, not finishing her sentence because White and her friends came down the girls' staircase to socialize before they went to Potter's club. She had only a scant minute to lift the privacy spell that she had cast earlier for good measure. Of course, the other participants in their intriguing conversation had no idea that she had cast a privacy spell in the first place, so they were understandably puzzled as to her silence upon seeing a few firstys coming down the stairs.

"Good morning," said Holly cheerfully. Nothing could cause her good mood to shift because she was finally going to learn some spells so that she could defend herself. And Potter had even told her that he might teach her a few things about healing himself…

"Good morning," said Pansy to the first year girl kindly.

"I've got to meet someone to get some things worked out," said Draco brushing off the concerned hand that Pansy had placed on his shoulder. He smiled a ruthful smile, because Potter had no idea that he was going to be ambushed in the great hall by his opponent. Draco needed to talk to him, and this was the only way he could come up with that his friends wouldn't find out about later and criticize him mercilessly about later incessantly.

Draco made it through the corridors and to the great hall in record time, and fortunately he had managed to avoid awkward questions from the biggest gossips of Hogwarts-the portraits.

Pushing open the doors and striding into the room with an air of confidence about him, Draco said, "Potter, I see that everything is in order for your meeting."

Harry spun around with a look of startled surprise on his face.

"Why are you here?"

"Because I wanted to talk to you ALONE."

"About what Malfoy? I have better things to be doing in the few minutes before my adoring fans get here." Draco didn't expect the bitterness in Potter's voice at the mentioning of his fan girls. He thought that Potter liked all of the attention from them…but maybe he detested their presence too.

"I just wanted to extend my humble apology for my part in everything last year. Because of my actions, you lost a man you evidently cared for-if your rushing across half of England wasn't proof enough. I'm really sorry. My friends and I regret being a part of Umbitch's little club of snitches."

"Apology accepted," said Harry tersely.

"But I can't accept your apology to my friends, as they deserve to hear it from your own lips."

Draco looked around the room nervously. He wanted to get this done and over with, because he wasn't entirely sure if he could get up the nerve to do this all again another time.

Fortunately for Draco's sake, Ron and Hermione came bursting through the doors of the great hall at that very moment.

"What's he doing here," asked Ron abruptly.

"He has something to say to you, don't you Malfoy,"asked Harry curtly.

"Yes. Ronald Weasley, youngest son of the Weasley household," he paused to collect his thoughts before continuing. Harry wondered what kind of bizarre ritual Malfoy was conducting with his friend. Obviously Ron had some idea of what was going on, because he made no attempt to interrupt the blond as he usually would. "I ask for your forgiveness for my actions last term. Though I can make no restitution for the actions of any member of the Malfoy family except my own. Will you accept my sincerest apologies for the grievances that my actions and those of those whom I call friend have caused you?"

Grudgingly Ron said, "Yes, Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, I except your apology and…" Ron paused fighting back the urge to ask for some ridiculous demand in restitution, because he knew that if he didn't, Harry would have his guts for garters. He had already alienated Hermione to some extent by entering into a relationship with Lavender, he had no desire to make matters worse by being childish. "I require no restitution of you. You are forever absolved of your actions to my friend Harry Potter, which caused the death of someone whom he cared greatly for."

Now that the formal dance that Ron and Draco seemed to be conducting was over, Harry for the umpteenth time that morning scratched at his left forearm which was covered by the sleeve of his robe.

Merlin it itched!

But surely it's nothing…after all, the redness that I got on my forehead after I went to hospital that time went away a few days later…if I can just put it off until it goes away, then there's nothing to worry about.

Draco turned to Granger looking as if he wished he were anywhere else.

"I'm sorry for all of the grief I've caused you over the years Granger. You didn't deserve that backfired spell in fourth year, and you didn't deserve being sent into the Forbidden Forest with that old hag."

"I forgive you," said Hermione, figuring that Malfoy had already suffered enough blows to his pride for one day. "All I ask is that you refrain from such behavior to my friends and I ever again."

"Alright," said Draco coolly. "I'd best be going. People to see…places to go and all of that."

Harry very much doubted that, since he suspected that some of his friends might be coming to the great hall shortly, but he didn't contradict the blond allowing him to save face and just leave.

..:..:..

Harry's POV

Never had I thought I would see the day Draco Malfoy, who was known for his pride, apologize to me, but well. Here it was. Granted, he did it rather stiffly, but not only did he manage to keep his trademark sneer and any other nasty expression he might have picked up off his face, he also extended an apology to Ron and Hermione. Fancy that! It couldn't change the past, of course, but it was still good to know that he didn't still feel that what he did was right. It made a nice change, and secretly, I hoped it would last.

Before Harry knew it, the first meeting was starting, "Can I have everybody's attention," asked Harry. "We need to begin."

The entire great hall quieted down.

"I'm going to ask all new members wishing to join Dumbledore's Army to sign this member's list before I begin."

"What happens if we don't sign," asked a fifth year Slytherin girl. "It's not that I am afraid of being associated with your group or anything, I just don't want this list to get into the wrong hands with my signature that's all."

Harry had his doubts about the girl's loyality, but deciding to take Hermione's attitude about the other houses and his own new opinion that Slytherins needed a chance to prove themselves, he let it go answering, "If you don't feel comfortable signing, then I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Hermione will be keeping the list and I can assure you that no one will find it let alone read it."

"How's that," asked a new Ravenclaw student.

"Hermione has cast several spells on it and I have learned to trust her magical abilities when it comes to stuff like this," said harry confidantly.

"Why do we need the list," asked Cho. "It's not like Professor Umbridge is here to catch us as members of an illegal defense club this year after all."

"I want us to still have a roster."

" Is it hexed like the last one," asked Cho. "It took Marietta weeks to recover from that horrible hex!"

"She deserved it," said Lavender. "She betrayed us to the enemy."

"Yes and she has suffered for her crimes," said Hermione a bit smugly.

All of the new students got up and signed the list, some more reluctant than others.

"The only request that I have is that none of you use any combat spells or other skills that you are tought here to directly aid Lord Voldemort. Several of the new members jumped at the sound of the Dark Lord's name. Harry would definitely have to break them of the habit soon.

"We're going to break up the DA into two groups, the advanced branch and the beginner's branch. To begin with, all of those fourth year and below will be audomatically placed in the beginner's branch and those fifth year and above will start their if they're new and have the opportunity to join the advanced group once they master a certain skill level. This is also true for any first through fourth years as well. If you perform poorly on a regular basis, you can also be downgraded to the beginner's branch. This organizational process is for your own safety as the advanced group will be Hogwart's primary defense if we're attacked. That being said, no one will be forced to fight, you can always retreat to your dormatory with the first through fourth years, if the school is under attack"

"Then why are we being trained at all," said a Hufflepuff third year.

"Your job will be to protect those unwilling or unable to fight if our and the Order/Ministry's defense fails. Of course this doesn't mean that this sinareao will happen, but I wanted to explain the whys and hows of this system so that no one feels left out," said Harry.

"I'll be leading the meetings usually, but on occasion others can teach a class for either group if they feel that they have something to contribute to that specific group. Whilst I will train you lot for war, none of you are obligated to fight when and if we do find ourselves facing battle."

"You said that you'll teach me more about healing, when will that take place if you're leading either the advanced branch or the beginners," asked Holly.

"For you and anyone else wanting to learn more about healing, I'll contact you with this," said Harry pulling out a spare DA galleon for Holly. "This is how we contacted the DA members last year when it was time for meetings. The cereal numbers will change to show the date and time. Everyone will leave today with one of these. In case of an attack we may contact you using these as well."

"Do you expect an attack," asked one of Holly's friends.

"These are troubled times and you never know what's going to happen, so just be prepared to learn all you can."

"What would you like me to start working on with the returning members," asked Hermione.

"We're going to do a general review of all of the spells that we went over last year for those fifth year and above," said Harry. "This will allow the members of that age group that are new to the group to either learn the spells or brush up on them before any new material is learned. Since we have people here from all seven years, we're going to have to set up different times to teach different age groups.

"Yes," said everyone at once.

"Today I'd like to open up the floor and just answer any questions that you may have and we'll begin spell casting next meeting."

"Could you go over the spells with the fifth through seventh years Hermione and Neville while I answer questions from the new members."

"Of course Harry," said Neville following Hermione across the room and gesturing for the students in question to follow.

"Erm, I reckon you lot want to hear what exactly makes me qualifyed to instruct you in defense," said Harry awkwardly.

"If you wouldn't mind," said a Gryffindor boy.

"Well it all started with the philosopher's stone…"

The remainder of the lesson became a question and answer session about the golden trio's adventures through their years at Hogwarts. Harry really didn't see what all the hype was about, but his story seemed to impress those who were initially reluctant about joining the group.

..:..

A/n: I hope that you liked this chapter. Some of you had requested that I leave out cannon, so I left out the fill in the new members about Harry's life since we already read it in cannon during their fifth year.

Also, I wanted to mention in case you didn't notice it in this chapter, that Albus also told Harry about the inheritance of Black's estate last chapter, I didn't put it in that chapter because I wanted to avoid quoting more cannon. Yes that does include Creature. Dobby is keeping a firm hand on him until which time he becomes a proper elf once more. Hope that this explanation is good enough.

If I need to change any scenes or alter anything, just let me know.

I also regret to tell you that we've officially caught up with all of the fic that I've prewritten, so it may be a week or so before I post chapter eleven.


	11. Chapter 11: the Cancer Bash

Diagnosis

A/N: I wanted to let you know that the bit about the steroid beginning dose last chapter was something that I made up and unlike everything else related to the cancer, I have not done my research about the realistic proscribed amount. I hope that that doesn't bother you lot. Remember that a month from now, he'll only have to take three steroidal tablets a day. Which isn't that bad

Since I had plenty of free time today, I had the time to update again for all of you. Two updates in one day, that's a first for me.

Editted for medical accuracy 6-23-19.

The information about Harry's specific brain tumor can be found at .com.

Disclaimer: *looks over my shoulder* Nope, I don't have any fangirls or fanboys following me, so I'm not JKR.

Chapter eleven: the Cancer Bash

..:..

Harry and Neville made their way to the entrance hall awaiting Professor Snape's arrival. Harry noticed rather peculiarly that he felt oddly detached from the worry that he expected to feel this afternoon. All of the fear and apprehension at going for the Muggle MRI had evaporated from him. Harry turned to Neville who was jostling his leg up and down nervously, asking, "Did I seem less anxious than I was this morning at the DA meeting earlier?"

"Yeah, you didn't get irked even when some of the children gave you a hard time. I just thought that you were being your usual brave self though, do you think that something's wrong with your health, I mean besides the whole cancer thing?"

"Yes. Now that I think of it. Ordinarily I'd be rather worried about how Professor Snape is going to treat me now that he knows that I'm the ill student in his care."

"Why do you reckon that is?"

"You seem to be under the influence of a potion. But oddly, it doesn't seem to be one that's hazardous to your health. Did Madame Pomfrey give you anything to drink while you were in the hospital wing earlier? If so, did it taste weird?"

"Yes, my pumpkin juice tasted rather odd. I thought that it was the taste of the two steroid tablets that I took with my breakfast though. She dosed me with a calming draft didn't she?"

"I can't say for sure since potions aren't my forte, but probably. Maybe she was concerned that you'd become upset if you were anxious about today."

"Makes sense to me."

Severus Snape swooped into the entrance hall at that moment, interrupting their conversation. "Mr. Potter are you ready to go? Why are you here Mr. Longbottom?"

"I'm ready if you are," said Harry politely. "Neville is here because I asked him if he'd accompany me to hospital. Is that okay with you?"

By the look on their professor's face, Harry could tell that he wanted desperately to say no, but with much effort on his part, his face relaxed into his normal expression. "I suppose, as long as you two behave yourselves, no shenanigans though or I won't make this exception to the rules again, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir," chorused the boys.

"Follow me to the gates of Hogwarts please," said Severus, his robes billowing as he went. "We'll be traveling by side-along appearation, but we have to get past the anti-appearation wards before we can. I'll transport Potter to the hospital first then you Mr. Longbottom."

Neville groaned.

He didn't like appearation that much.

Judging by the look on Neville's face, Harry wasn't going to like the sensation of appearating very much.

"Is it that bad," asked Harry worriedly.

"Yes. Gran appearates me whenever necessary, even though I've done it loads of times, the sensation is still disconcerting."

"Thank goodness I got dosed by Poppy then," muttered Harry to Neville. "Now I'm not nervous about our transportation and that's saying a lot since I usually detest magical travel of any kind except for broom flying."

"Why can't I get dosed too," bemoaned Neville.

"Because you're not as awesome as the great Harry Potter that's why," said Harry in jest. Both of the boys knew that it was because Madame Pomfrey didn't want the cancer kid to be unduly stressed out by what he was going through, and joking about it made it all seem more bearable.

"It's not really a good thing though," said Harry.

"Why is that," asked Neville looking over his shoulder at Harry.

"Because I'm not supposed to take two many potions with the medication and potions regimen I'm about to start that's why. This could cause a worsening of symptoms."

"Oh," replied Neville lamely. "Maybe healer Robertson won't get to hospital until it wears off, it'll save Pomfrey from getting told off."

"Yeah," said Harry. "She meant well, her judgement was just clouded by her concern for my welfare that's all."

The potions master unlocked the gates beckoning the two children to follow him outside. The wooden gate closed behind them. Harry watched on with interest as Severus cast a very powerful and complicated locking spell on them to ensure the safety of the kids still in the castle.

"Mr. Potter if you would. Hold tightly to my arm and don't for any reason let go. I don't want to get you splenched, it'd be more than my job's worth if such a tragedy happened."

Still feeling no nervousness, Harry did as his potions instructor bade him and before he knew it, they turned on the spot and were gone.

Harry landed without the embarrassment of falling over. The vertigo was throwing his balance off much like it had done last night in the Headmaster's office. Harry fell over roughly on the ground feeling completely like rubbish. It would seem that having the sensation of having one's stomach squeezed out one's ears didn't agree with him. For that was what he felt like after being squeezed through a rubber tube. No, he definitely did not want to appearate ever again if at all possible.

"Are you going to be quite alright," asked Severus bending down to have a closer look at Harry. "Not going to sick up on me are you? And if I might ask, how did you find yourself on the ground. Surely you're constitution is not this poor."

"No, I don't think so," said Harry. "Balance problems are a side-effect of my brain tumor sir."

" Oh," said Severus unsure what else to say about the incident. "Fine, wait here while I go get Longbottom."

Harry got up off of the hard ground and stood unsteadily on his feet once more.

In what seemed like mere moments, Professor Snape reappeared with Neville. Harry was relieved to see that his mate wasn't missing any spare bits.

"Oooouuuuu, that wasn't pleasant said Neville.

"Oh sharpen up you two. We've got an appointment to keep. Remember that everyone here except for healer Robertson is a Muggle so do not mention our world whilst we're here. We don't want anyone violating the statute of secrecy now do we," asked Severus sarcastically.

"Only if it's you," said Harry.

"What's that Mr. Potter? Speak up I didn't hear you."

"I said something that I oughtn't repeat if it's alright with you," said Harry cheekily.

"I don't doubt that no doubt. You're your father's son through and through."

"But I have my mother's eyes," said Harry.

"Yes you do, but if you don't treat me with respect I'll dock points when we get back do you understand me you two?"

Harry felt bad getting Neville dressed down for something that he had said. "Sorry Nev and Professor Snape I'm sorry for what I said."

The trio made their way from behind a large building and around to the front after they had taken off their robes and in Neville's case transfigured his clothes into muggle ones. Harry and Severus it seemed had come prepared to meet Muggles except for their robes.

"I'll banish our robes back to Hogwarts," said Severus raising his wand to do so.

"Very good, now follow me."

..:..

A few minutes later, Harry found himself in the muggle hospital in Chelsea on the fourth level, which was the oncology ward. He didn't really know what he expected to happen once they arrived, but somehow sitting in a comfortable chair and waiting just didn't seem as dramatic of a scene as Harry had been prepared for.

"How long do you reckon it'll take for someone to come and see me," asked Harry of his friend who was sitting right beside him.

"Not long. From what Elisa says, things around here happen rather quickly and efficiently. Cancer is a fast paced disease if not treated promptly and the muggle workers do sometimes have a flair for dramatics."

"Do you want to add new items to my "before I die" list," asked Harry.

"Sure thing. Let's see what you have."

Harry reached into his trousers pocket and pulled out the list. The two boys ignored Professor Snape's presence instead throwing themselves into the task at hand.

"How about going to an amusement park," whispered Neville to Harry. "That isn't on here. Elisa went to one over the summer. She didn't care for it much, but I think you'd love it. Some of the rides go as fast as a broomstick."

That definitely sounded right up Harry's alley so he wrote it down with a quill that Professor Snape had conjured for them.

The two continued to add to the list, their items ranged from anything ranging from going to the cinema to going to a department store.

Before they knew it, a knock came at the door.

"Come in," said Professor Snape.

"Hi my name is Nurse Amy. I'm here to get Mr. Potter ready for his MRI scan."

Harry was glad that the nurse had came to get him because he didn't like the idea of Severus sitting their watching his friend and himself making plans for their future. He didn't think that any of this except for the potion brewing part of the process was any part of his professor's business.

"Would you mind getting in the wheelchair for me Harry," said Nurse Amy.

"How do you know my name," asked Harry as he made his way towards the wheelchair.

"The hospital got a copy of your medical records prior to your arrival here," said Amy smiling. "I make it a point to try and connect with all of the patients right off the bat."

"Err alright. Where are we going," he asked.

"To the radiology department of course. We need to get a picture of your brain so that we know which kind of tumor we're looking at."

"Isn't it enough that my 'scan' shows that I do in fact have a brain tumor? I don't see why we need another one."

Harry decided to use the word scan as a euphemism for the diagnostic charms that Madame Pomfrey did, correctly sussing that she was in fact muggle.

"Because your CT didn't show us a detailed enough image for us to base your treatment plan on."

Harry didn't know exactly what a CT was but just went with it.

"Oh," said Harry. "I didn't know that."

"It's quite all right. We'll be back shortly," said the nurse to Severus and Neville. "Just wait here please. Vending machines are at the end of the corridor."

Severus didn't know exactly what vending machines were but he wasn't going to demean himself by asking Longbottom for clarification.

The oncology nurse pushed Harry's wheelchair out the door and down the corridor.

"Radiology is on the first level," said Nurse Amy pushing the button for the lifts.

The lift arrived and she pushed Harry's chair into the lift waiting patiently for the door of the lift to close before pushing the right button.

Once they made it down to level one, the door opened and Harry found himself being taken down several corridors and through a door or two.

Finally they arrived at a door labeled radiology.

"We're finally here," said Harry. "Can I get out of this chair, I am quite capable of walking myself if that's alright with you."

"Hold on just one minute," said the nurse, pushing him up to a big machine with a table sticking out of it.

"Here is your gown, please take off all of your clothes and put this on if you don't mind."

"Even my pants?"

"No those can stay on for the duration of the test. A radiology tech will be here shortly to begin.

Harry waited until she left then got changed and onto the table as asked.

After the nurse had left, Harry just lay their. Due to the calming draft that was still in his system, Harry was completely relaxed.

A few minutes later, a knock came at the door. "Come in."

"Hi Mr. Potter. We need to get an IV started for the contrast dye."

"Let me take a look and see what we have here."

The Tech put on gloves and began to look for a vein to start a line in.

"My goodness, what's wrong with your arm?"

"Um I don't exactly know. I went for medical tests yesterday and when I woke up this morning they looked like this."

"Do you by chance have any allergies?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"This looks like a latex allergy. Let me go and get one of my colleagues to confirm it. I can't use these gloves or these supplies if this is indeed the case."

"But you can still do the MRI right?"

"Yes."

The next time Harry looked up, he saw the tech from before and an unfamiliar nurse standing beside him looking at his arm.

"Did you have any blood drawn yesterday," asked the nurse. "Was latex used at all?"

"I think that it was. No one mentioned any potential allergies to me before they drew my blood."

"Alright, then it's fair to say that you're indeed allergic to latex. We'll make a note in your chart so that everyone on your treatment team can glove up appropriately from now on."

The tech tied the tourniquet around his good arm and searched for a vein. Finding a good one, she inserted the IV.

"We're going to scan you without contrast first. This device will help immobilize your head throughout the test."

Harry's head was positioned properly and the test began.

After the test was complete, the table Harry lay on was ejected from the machine and the contrast was administered before they restarted the test.

The remainder of the test whilst loud was very uneventful. Harry lay completely still so that they could get a good picture for his Doctor.

After the contrast porsion was done, Harry was glad for it to be over as the MRI was rather cramped and noisy.

He was brought back to his room by Nurse Amy who reassured him that everything would be fine and that his oncologist would be buy later with the results.

"Where's Professor Snape," asked Harry.

"He mentioned that he had to go to Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley to get some potions ingredients for your chemotherapy solution to be made," said Neville.

"Yay, so we're on our own?"

"Looks like it."

Harry asked Neville for his wand (he had handed it to him before entering the hospital so that the muggles wouldn't find it).

He cast a silencing charm on the door so that they could chat about whatever they pleased until healer Robertson came by. Since he was not a Muggle, they weren't breaking any rules right?

..:..

A knock came on the door and it swung open.

"Why hello their Harry. How are you?"

"Fine, my arm itches a bit though."

"Nurse Amy said that during the process of your MRI they discovered that you're allergic to latex, is that true?"

"Yes sir. Are either of my medical alternatives to IV's no longer available due to my allergy?"

"No, we will now be using latex free supplies when treating you."

"Okay."

"Do you mind if Neville stays or would you like him to leave while I talk to you? We have your results Harry."

"He is more than welcome to stay."

"Alright. That really means a lot to me."

"Your MRI came back as one that's positive for brain cancer as I knew it would. Now that we've got these images to go by, we were able to draw up a treatment plan for you. But first let me explain a little about your specific brain tumor. You have what is known as a diffuse intrinsic pontine **glioma** ( **DIPG** ) which is an aggressive type of childhood cancerous **tumor** that forms in the **brain** stem. That's the area at the base of your **brain** that connects the **brain** to the spine. ... About 300 children a year **are** diagnosed with **DIPG** in the United Kingdom. I know that this isn't easy to hear," said the healer in a concerned tone. "But I promise you that it gets easier if not necessarily better. Before you know it, you'll be back playing Quidditch again. For the Cannons naturally."

"How bad is it? You said that the tumor is an aggressive one, is our original treatment plan not going to work or something," asked Harry. "They're not my favorite team, however Ron would love an invite to play on the Cannon's team as Keeper."

"Yes, for the most part it will. The only real difference is that your cycles of treatment will only have a break of two days a week off and five days on. This is due to the seriousness of your cancer. Since your magic has been keeping your symptoms down, you've appeared to be in better health than you are. Now that we know this, it is of utmost concern that you start both your radiotherapy and chemotherapy on Monday evening. You will begin the MCDI tomorrow night. This potion will be taken by an injection through either your port or your Hickman line. You will come to hospital Monday through Friday evenings at six each evening for the radiation for six to eight weeks. Then you will return to school and have some time either for rest or recreation before you go to Professor Snape's quarters at eight for your infusion and the MCDI. At the end of the sixth week of radiation treatments, we will rescan your brain to see if the treatment is having any affect. If it is having some affect then we can stop the radiotherapy, if not, then the radiation will continue for the maximum of eight weeks. This of course is not the ideal option, as radiation is very dangerous and there is a maximum amount of radiation that you can undergo in your lifetime. If we manage to put this cancer into remission with all of the treatments that we have planned, you will still need to take a month more of once a week infusions for one more month. This step isn't mandatory but is one I prefer because we want to lessen the reoccurance rate of the cancer. You will also need to take this pill every morning and before bed. It is a anti-convolsant. It should prevent you from having any seizures. If it should prove ineffective, there are of course other medications we can try."

Harry sat their stunned. Sure he knew he had cancer before coming here today, but it was entirely a different matter to be given a specific diagnosis. It made it somehow more real.

Was this treatment plan going to kill him or cure him? Should he make defeat the Dark Lord a higher priority on his list of things to do? How much time did he have before he would die?

"Are you alright Harry," asked Neville in concern.

"No but I will be," said Harry honestly. Being honest with his friends was something that he often struggled with, but now he decided he would make it more of a priority on his to-do list. "Why can't you remove the tumor like they do on the telly," asked Harry.

"Because your tumor is enoperable. DIPG's are sometimes operable, but we caught yours extremely late in the game."

"Here Mr. Potter is a goblet of water, please take this pill now and tonight before bed. When you leave tomorrow, we'll give you a prescription to be filled, you will have to take it along with your steroid, this will be the anti-convolsant we discussed."

Harry took the items from his healer and drank the pill down with the water.

"What about my morning medications?"

"You can still take them as indicated just with as small of a sip of water as possible."

"But I thought that I couldn't have anything after midnight."

"You can't have any food yes this is true, but we will have to make this alteration to the norm due to the seriousness of your condition. Every pill you swallow and every potion that is given to you at this point will increase your odds of survival."

"I'm not trying to depress you any further, but DIPG tumors are usually considered fatal. Treatment is usually targeted to quality of life not a cure. That being said, you might have a chance since we're using the 'chemo' that we are. It's your best chance. Your tumor as luck would have have it, appears to be a grade IV. How we've determined that is by the way it looks on the film, size, shape and appearance. It would be optimal if we could biopsy it, but we're unable to do this because of where it's located. How are you taking this Harry?"

"Poorly. I thought…hoped that we had caught it in time despite Poppy's reluctant opinion. But I should've known, when it comes to me, it's go big or go home," said Harry laughing nervously. It would appear as if his calming draft had begun to wear off. What a bummer.

"You've got this mate," said Neville.

"If you say so," said Harry. "How many months will I have to undergo the 'chemo'?"

"For as many as your body can tolerate. Like I said, we're going to fight this with all we've got, but I won't lie to you, the outcome is grim."

"So say a year or a year and a half of treatment," hedged Harry.

"More like two years plus."

Harry cringed.

"But I'll be graduated from school by then."

"Yes, but that's all the more reason for you to fight this thing."

"So Harry," said healer Robertson. "Are you familiar with your options for your treatment to be given by?"

"Neville told me about the Hickman line. He also mentioned a port but admitted that he didn't know much about it."

"I'm sitting right here you know," said Neville.

"Yes you dolt I know that."

"Well the port is placed under your skin with a catheter that is placed under the skin. This allows for medications to be given to you more efficiently. It goes just under your collar bone. The surgeon will also make an incision in your neck to place the catheter. You may be able to feel the scepter and the catheter but it will not be easily visible."

"This is the one I want," said Harry.

"That's a relief," said Robertson. "For this is the one that as your physician I would recommend for you. In order to prepare for the procedure, we ask that you do not eat after midnight. Once you get back to Hogwarts, either Poppy or Severus will be able to heal both incision sites for you. Here you will be closed up with either stitches or surgical glue."

Harry looked a bit squeamish at the whole procedure. He would have to go to theater. He had assumed that this procedure would be a risky one, but the healer had talked like it was a common procedure to have.

"Will Severus be able to use my port for my first MCDI treatment tomorrow night?"

"Yes, the person placing the port will already have a needle in the port so that it can be accessed tomorrow night. They will do this while you're under the anesthesia."

"Can I go home tomorrow as planned?"

"Yes of course."

"Now rest up. You're going to need to be strong for this," said the healer. "They'll come and get you for the fitting of your mask."

"My mask?"

"For the radiation, it has places marked to show the radiologist where to irradiate."

Harry almost wished that he hadn't asked. For their were some things he just did not want to know.

..:..

Several hours later, Harry walked into what appeared to be the oncology playroom. It had been decorated up for the party. Chairs aligned the walls and were sitting at a table in the center of the room. Over in a corner was a toy box full of toys and such for the younger children to play with. Their was also a television along one wall that the patients could watch, which was currently turned off.

Around the edges of the room sat several teens, some with hair and some without. Several younger children sat at the table; they had chosen to draw pictures instead of go sit by the cool kids around the perimeter of the room, which was where Harry was headed.

Harry walked up to a girl who looked about the same age as himself and confidently said, "My name is Harry, what's yours?"

"Ashley. Is this your first time?"

"Yes. I was only officially diagnosed with a name to my kind of brain cancer today."

"Yeah, I figured that you were new what with the hair and all."

"You never know, I could be in remission."

"Nah, then I'd recognize your face."

"What type of cancer do you have Ashley?"

"I have lymphoma."

"Not in remission I see," said Harry teasingly.

"But I will be soon," said the girl with conviction in her voice.

"Who's your doctor," asked Harry.

"My oncologist is Dr. Andrews. Three of my friends have the same oncologist as I do. Speaking of which, do you want to meet my compadrays?"

"Sure. My oncologist is Dr. Robertson."

"That's awesome. I hear that he's the best," said Ashley. "His remission rates are some of the highest in the hospital."

"That's a darn good thing since I have DIPG grade IV."

"Ouch. And you say that they only told you that today?"

"Yes but the tumor was spotted on a previous scan, it was to blurry to tell what kind of brain cancer it was until now though. Lucky me eh?"

"Don't let the cancer get you down. Always remember to smile and have a positive outlook on life because that's all we've got here."

Harry and Ashley walked over to the group of teens sitting in the chairs lounging around as if they didn't have a care in the world.

"Who is this hot dude you have with you milady," asked a blond haired teen.

"His name is Harry and he's a real sweetheart."

"My name is Michael," said the blond boy. "And I have leukemia."

"Nice to meet you. My name is Harry and I have a DIPG brain tumor."

"He's got doctor Robertson just like you do Adam," said Ashley.

"That's splendid. He's a fine doc," said Adam. "I am also fighting brain cancer."

The rest of the group told their cancer diagnosis, their names and who their doctors were. Before you knew it, the group had become fast friends and it was all thanks to Ashley.

Brook who was in remission went and got everyone refreshments and beverages at some point in the conversation.

"So what're we doing for Halloween," asked Chris who had said that he had bone cancer when introduced.

"There's going to be a dance. And the best news of all is that we can bring nonmembers of the group as dates," said Ashley excitedly.

"You would like that," said Gail. "You of course will bring Toney right?"

"You know it girl."

Harry's facial expression went from slightly interested to one of happiness.

"We get to bring someone with us, like a real date," asked Harry giddily.

"Yes silly," said Brook. "It's a dance for God's sake."

If Harry had had his way, he knew just who he'd bring. The tricky part was going to be how to get Draco Malfoy to say yes to this when he had only just apologized to him this morning.

..:..

Harry lay comfy in his hospital bed. He saw only his roommate who went by the name Rick. He was a ten year old who was battling stomach cancer.

Harry was bored, because he really didn't know how to talk to this young muggle. Earlier, the conversation had flown smoothly but now the silence just drug on and on.

The Boy-Who-Lived wished now more than ever that one of his mates was at hospital to keep him calm.

But Neville had been picked up by Professor Snape before the party. The Professor had claimed that he had to get back to brew the two potions and that he would be unable to leave the cauldron later to pick him up so therefore he had to go, but Harry wondered suspiciously if this were the case. Or if Severus's tolerance of the human population had been met for the day and he found himself no longer able to tolerate the company of others.

The calming draft had long worn off by now.

Harry had cried a bit earlier when he lay down in his bed, thinking only of the bad possible outcomes, but then he had remembered what Ashley had told him about staying positive.

He rested until Nurse Amy brought them their dinner and handed them their medications.

"I'll bring your anti-convolsant by tonight around eight Harry. Is that alright?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"And remember no eating or drinking after midnight except for your morning meds okay."

..:..

Severus got to working on Potter's potions right away, mincing, dicing, chopping and crushing ingredients. He put them into the concoction as soon as they were ready. He was determined to brew the two potions perfectly. He was not going to be the cause of Lily Evan's son's death if he could prevent it.

First he would finish up the one he was working on now, the relatively easily brewed MCDI, then he would move on to the more challenging chemotherapy draft. It was going to be one of the more complex potions that Severus would successfully brew in a long time.

..:..

A/N: I had originally planned on writing much more for the cancer party but didn't want to get to close to the scene from a fic that I have previously read, so I stopped their. Next chapter will contain the surgery and much much more. Did you like it, hate it, or are you indifferent to it?

I spent a lot of time writing this chapter today, I hope that you found it to your taste.

As for Harry being able to take his medication before a procedure, my doctor has always allowed me to do that before being put to sleep, so I'm assuming that it's okay with Harry's oncology team.

When responding to a review I went back to check on the contents of the chapter and realized that I forgot to explain why Harry couldn't have an operation to increase his odds of beating the tumor. In real life they can sometimes be enoperable, I had a friend once who this was the case, hence Harry's is. If some medical inaccuracys bother you, then perhaps this fic isn't for you. I am not a medical professional. I just wanted you all to know. Online you can do the research and find that DIPG's are enoperable due to them being in the braim stem some of the time. I read that online from a medical website yesterday and thought that I had explained it. Lol I didn't but that's been rectified. Thanks for the person who told me about the MRI medical bit that I needed to fix.


	12. Chapter 12: Celmosphocide

Diagnosis

a/n: Thank all of you for all of the reviews for the last two chapters. If you read chapter eleven before I edited it, then you do not know that as of right now, Harry's tumor is inoperable for the time being. After Harry's second MRI takes place at the end of his radiotherapy, they will reconsider surgery. Let me know what you'd like to see happen in regards to his treatment.

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the Harry Potter series much to my displeasure.

Chapter 12: Celmosphocide

..:..

Before Harry knew it, Sunday morning had arrived and the port placement lay in front of him. If the raven-haired youth was honest with himself, he was more than a bit nervous.

This was going to be the first time that Harry had to go to theater ever. He could only hope that the doctor who would be placing the device knew what they were doing.

He wished not for the first time, that Healer Robertson could be the one doing the procedure.

However the oncologist had more important things to be doing than placing a port.

It was by no means a complex procedure. In fact, sometimes it was even put in outside of the theater in a special room where such things took place. Harry had read that information from a pamphlet that his oncologist had given him yesterday after delivering the bad news. He had wanted Harry to have ample time to study up on what was about to happen to his body.

The night shift nurse brought Rick a tray of breakfast and Harry his morning meds with a small cup of water to take them by.

"Hello their you two. How are you doing?"

"Alright," mumbled Harry. "Do you know when my surgery will take place?"

"They will be down to get you at ten. Rest up until then."

"Can I go to the play room and see if there's anyone their to talk too," asked Harry feeling a bit nervous. He reasoned with himself that he would feel both less depressed and less worried if he talked to someone who knew what he was going through.

"Yes. You're free to roam the oncology floor as long as you don't go getting into too much trouble."

"Thanks," said Harry swallowing his prednisone and the seizure drug before getting out of bed.

After the nurse had talked to Rick, checking up on his pain levels and the like, she left the room.

Harry quickly adorned a fresh pair of clothes that Severus had conjured for him yesterday. They were to date his best clothes yet. He had made up his mind to thank the professor for this act of kindness when he next got the chance.

"Do you want to join me in the play room," asked Harry of Rick politely.

"Nah, my family is supposed to come by and see me at nine and I don't want to miss them," said the bald boy with a smile on his face.

"Well I suppose that this is goodbye then. I'll be going to have my port placed at ten. If your family is still here then you'll probably be too busy then to talk so I'll say farewell to you and good luck with your treatments."

"Thanks. You too Harry. See you around then."

Harry put his trainers on and tied them up before making his way out of the shared hospital room.

He looked around the corridor taking in all of the sights before him. He saw several carts with medical equipment on them, doorways spaced evenly out along the walls and a wheelchair or two strewn around the corridor.

He walked down the corridor and to the left. He passed the nursing station where the nurses were updating the next shift of nurses on all of their patient's statuses.

Harry went into the play room and saw that where chairs had aligned the walls yesterday, their was a divan in front of the telley along with several comfy looking armchairs.

Along the walls their were a mixture of divans and armchairs to sit at if one did not fancy watching the telley.

Harry walked over to an armchair and sat down.

He looked to his right and spotted a boy whom he had talked too last night.

"Fancy seeing you this morning Adam," said Harry.

"You as well. What's got you up so early?"

"I am NPO because they're going to place my port today."

"Oh really? That's good. So they're going to begin your chemotherapy soon then?"

"I'm starting one medication tonight," said Harry.

"Are you nervous?"

"A bit."

"I didn't feel like eating much this morning because I've got chemo today," said Adam. "I never eat breakfast on those days. Experience has taught me that it'll do no good to eat on those days if you know what I mean."

"So the treatment for your brain tumor makes you quite ill," asked Harry.

"Yes. Cancer is very challenging to treat, so we oftentimes get rather ill during and after treatments."

"Do you reckon that'll happen to me?"

"Probably. So why aren't you already in surgery to remove the brain tumor, they usually do that before treatment," inquired Adam.

"Because it's inoperable."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe after you get some treatments under your belt they'll be able to operate."

"Maybe. I'll ask my oncologist and see what he has to say, because you see, they're not exactly optimistic about my chances right now. If there's even a chance that they can operate at some point I'm open to the idea."

"So are you excited about the Halloween dance," asked Adam changing the subject to a more lighthearted one.

"Yes as a matter of fact I am. Do you have someone special in mind?"

"Yes. There's this girl who I'm dating and I'm definitely going to invite her."

"Does she have cancer?"

"No. What about you, anyone in mind?"

"There's this boy at school. His name is Draco. He's a very charismatic bloke. We're not dating right now, but I hope that I can rectify that soon."

"So what does that make you, gay or bisexual," asked Adam curiously.

"I'm gay. I used to date this one girl before I became interested in men. I'm not really sure what changed my preferences, but honestly being gay is the best thing that has happened to me in a long time."

Harry wasn't sure what made him confide in Adam so much, but if he had to take a guess it would be that he was a kindred spirit. No he wasn't gay or bi like Harry, but they could identify with one another in other ways like having the same kind of cancer, brain cancer.

"I had this best mate who was gay when I was in school."

"That's wicked. But you said when you were in school, so does that mean that you're not still currently in school," asked Harry with a pit of dread in his stomach.

"No I'm homeschooled. Most of us who do inpatient chemo are homeschooled because the treatments bring our cell counts to low for us to attend secondary."

"Oh I didn't know that," said Harry lamely.

He hoped that he wouldn't have to quit going to classes. Maybe they could make some accommodations if his counts ever dropped. He really didn't want to think about how bad things might get right about now though.

So he was relieved to see a young girl entering the play room.

"Hi Elisa," said Adam. "Where's Linda?"

"She's not doing too well," said Elisa coming over to talk with the older kids.

"What happened," asked Adam.

"She slipped into a coma last night after the party. Her parents are going to take her home on hospice."

"That's unfortunate. It's a pity that she's going to lose her battle with brain cancer."

"Hi," said Elisa sticking a hand out towards Harry to be shaken. "My name is Elisa what's yours?"

Harry saw recognition in her eyes that showed that she had clearly recognized him as the Boy-who-lived but he had to play along so that the muggle wouldn't get suspicious.

"My name's Harry-Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you Elisa. Do you want to draw with me," asked Harry.

"Sure," said the chipper girl. It was evident to Harry that she wanted to get to know the famous Harry Potter more. He decided to indulge her just this once and made his way to the table to draw.

Harry turned around and said goodbye to Adam. Focusing all of his energy on getting to know Neville's cousin better.

..:..

Harry lay in bed nervous about the upcoming procedure. Time seemed to drag buy after he had left Elisa behind. He decided to work more on his list and grabbed a pen from his bedside table.

He wrote go on a date with Draco Malfoy down and have sex. He also wrote go to a concert and watch a professional Quidditch match. He wanted to write more but couldn't think of anything. So he put it away.

Before Harry knew it, nurse Amy came into the room to prep him for the procedure.

After they had gotten him ready and checked his vitals, he was wheeled down to the theater.

"Can you get on the table for me Harry," asked someone in a surgical mask.

"Yes," said Harry transferring himself to the table.

One of the masked individuals accessed his IV and gave him a drug to relax him and make him feel no pain.

The procedure began.

And Harry remembered no more.

..:..

Severus's POV

About an hour later, Severus Snape strolled the hospital corridors looking for Harry. Not finding him anywhere on the oncology floor, he went to the nurses station.

"Where is Mr. Potter?"

"He's in the recovery room still coming around from his port placement sir. Would you like to see him?"

"No. I can wait until he returns to his room."

"But he won't be returning to his room," said nurse Amy. "He's a same day surgery patient. You can take him home once he's lucid."

"Alright," said Severus grumpily. "Where's doctor Robertson, he was supposed to give us a prescription for Harry."

"He left it here with us. Let's see…" The nurse found it handing it over.

"Where's the recovery room," asked Severus.

"It's on the third level."

The potions master made his way to where the boy lay in recovery.

After a few minutes of gazing at Lily's son aimlessly, Severus was brought out of his revelry by Harry's groan.

"Potter can you hear me," asked a recovery nurse.

"Yeah."

"Are you in any pain?"

"Yes."

"How do you rate your pain on a scale of one to ten? One is no pain at all and ten is the worst pain you've been in in your life."

"A three."

"Would you like anything for pain?"

"Yes ma'am."

The nurse left the curtained area and returned shortly with a cup of water and two pills.

"Here you go. Do you need any help sitting up?"

"No," said the Gryffindor confidently.

Harry swallowed the two over-the-counter pain relievers and lay back down.

"He'll probably be in pain for a while after the port placement," said the nurse. "You can give him over-the-counter pain relievers that you can buy at a drug store to treat the discomfort until it passes. When his nurse accesses his port she'll already find that a needle has been placed for tonight's treatment."

"Okay."

Severus didn't correct the nurse, for it would be him accessing Potter's port. He had learned how to do this in muggle university during his clenicals at a hospital. Peter Robertson would be their tonight to watch him administer the Celmosphocide. If everything went to plan, then Professor Snape would have the challenging task of administering Harry's treatments. The oncologist had explained to him this morning at Hogwarts that he would come by before every treatment to give the boy an anti-amidic, and after the bag was out then Severus would administer the rest of the meds. If anything were to go wrong, the oncologist was only a floo call away.

..:..

Harry's POV

A few hours later found Harry sitting in the infirmary across from Madame Pomfrey.

He had made his way here after being dropped off by Professor Snape who had reminded him to meet him at his quarters at eight.

Evidently Severus had at least suspected that Harry had a way of finding places in Hogwarts, because he gave him no directions.

"How'd it go," asked Madame Pomfrey.

"Not good," came Harry's succinct reply. "I have a tumor on my brain stem."

"What kind of brain cancer do you have and can they operate?"

"I have a diffuse intrinsic pontine glioma DIPG for short. It's a really aggressive kind of cancer. Since my magic blocked some of the symptoms for so long, it grew to a pretty big size. Healer Robertson said that it's inoperable. It's a grade IV tumor. I have probably about a five% chance of survival."

A tear trickled slowly down Poppy's cheek. She had expected for their to be bad news, but not this bad.

Pulling herself together Poppy said, "So are you still going to undergo the cancer treatments?"

"Yes."

"You're a brave wizard, you've got this," said Poppy reaching out and squeezing Harry's hand.

"I need to vanish your stitches Harry. Don't leave just yet," said Poppy to Harry. "Magic can save you the pain of the muggle healing process."

"Is my healer on board with this," asked Harry reluctantly.

"Yes. He gave me permission this morning when he visited the castle. I think that he had business to take care of with Professor Snape."

"Okay, but how do you know that you won't vanish my catheter or the port?"

"Careful precision and attention to details."

..:..

Harry's POV

Thirty minutes later found Harry, Ron and Hermione sitting in the Gryffindor common room.

Harry had decided to just bite the bullet and tell his friends about the cancer today. Yes he was nervous that they would find out about him telling Neville first, he could only hope that Ron wouldn't find out because his best mate had a jealous streak a kilometer wide.

"Muffliato," cast Harry with his holly and phoenix feather wand. "So I've got some pretty crappy news to tell you two."

"What's up mate," inquired Ron. "Is Michael Corner harassing Ginny again?"

"No. I'm afraid that the news I have to tell you lot is much much worse."

"I have cancer."

There he had finally said it.

Harry watched as Ron's face turned white in fear.

"B-but you can't have it. It's rare in wizards. Are you going to die?"

"Not all cancer is fatal these days. The muggle world has come up with new more advanced ways of treating this complex illness," said Hermione. "How do you know what cancer even is Ron? I thought that most wizarding families wouldn't know what it means?"

"Mum had an Uncle who died of it. Their was no treatment for him."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Hermione.

"I didn't really know him."

"I have cancer of the brain. To be more specific for you 'Mione' I have a diffuse intrinsic pontine glioma."

"Wow that's really rare," said Hermione with tears glistening in her eyes. "What grade is it?"

"Grade IV I'm afraid. It's inoperable."

Hermione put her hand to her mouth in horror.

"So it's terminal?"

"What's that mean," asked Ron.

"It means that someone's cancer is untreatable like your uncle's was," supplied Hermione.

"No but I only have like a five % chance of survival"

"Well if there's anything that I can do just let me know," said Hermione.

Ron looked like he was about to cry.

"You can't give up mate. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Me too," came Hermione's response.

"If cancer is so rare in the wizarding world, then how come your uncle got it," said Harry. "I don't mean to sound insensitive about this mate, I'm just curious."

"Because the Weasleys have married Muggle-borns and squibs into the family and that raised our chances for the cancer genes."

"Okay I'm sorry to hear that."

"Who told you that," asked Hermione.

"The healer who was treating him."

"Who's going to be treating you Harry," asked Hermione wiping away a stray tear.

"My healer is Healer Robertson. Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape will be doing most of the treatment. He'll be overseeing the dosages and stuff. They'll be doing the jobs usually delegated to the muggle nurses."

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry took out the Marauder's Map activating it. He made his way down the Gryffindor boy's dormitory staircase. He wiped the sleep out of his eyes, because he had taken a nap after talking to Ron and Hermione. He was still tired from the sedative given to him earlier that day. Though his chest and neck no longer pained him after Madame Pomfrey had vanished the stitches.

Letting out a yawn as he made his way out of the common room and into the corridors Harry used the map to find Professor Snape's quarters. If it hadn't been for the map then he never would have found them. Of course the Professor had to have the entry way to his rooms hidden by a password.

Harry as indicated by the writing on the map placed his hand on the wall saying "Slytherin cunning."

..:..

Harry's POV

"Sir how do you do," asked Harry after opening the door.

"Fine. I have to admit though that I thought I'd have to send Spot after you to get you here. How did you find my quarters," asked the professor.

"A family heirloom," said Harry. Taking a look around the professor's personal quarters Harry said, "I don't see where we're going to do my treatment."

"That's because we're not doing it in my sitting room. We're going to conduct your treatment in my office. This way."

Harry followed the professor.

He opened a wooden door. Harry spotted his healer sitting on a chair.

"How do you do Mr. Potter?"

"I'm a bit nervous. Why I thought I'd never find the professor's quarters."

"I chose a place where I could rest in solitude. I didn't choose this location for it's fine looks but for it's secrecy. Come over here and sit down on the bed."

"Um why do you have a bed in your office," asked Harry.

"I have it here in case you need to rest during or after your treatments."

"Oh okay."

"Let me take a look at your port," said Healer Robertson.

The healer had Harry remove his shirt and removed the clear tape covering the needle and port.

"Good, I see that they already inserted the needle into the port. This will save us the trouble of doing it tonight. And it looks like Madame Pomfrey has already healed the incision."

"Severus do you wish to administer the Celmosphocide or do you wish for me to show you how it's done?"

"I've got it. Potter relax. Just lay back so that we can begin."

"I need to get some of your blood," said Severus. "You add one drop of blood into the potion before it's administered. This is done because the potion requires a bit of your magical signature to work."

The potions master walked over to a table where a cauldron of purple potion sat. He collected a precise amount into a beaker and walked over to the healer and Harry.

"Mr. Potter are you ready?"

"Yes sir."

Severus took a knife out of his pocket and handed it to Harry.

"Make a small Knick on your finger and drip one drop of your blood into this potion.

Harry did as ordered wincing at the pain.

The potion changed from a deep purple color to a bright red color.

Severus accessed the port with a special syringe that was full of the potion and injected it.

Harry sat their compliant as he was given his medication.

He had not known what to expect from this first dose of the MCDI but smooth sailing wasn't it. He had expected something dramatic to happen, but when nothing did, he let out a sigh of relief.

Professor Snape disposed of the syringe, flushing his port with saline and heparin before conjuring a new dressing.

"The needle will need to be changed every seven days," said Severus. "If you wish for your healer to be here tomorrow night for your first chemotherapy dose to be given he can do so."

"Would you really do that just for me," asked Harry of his healer. "Don't you have lots of patients to be seeing?"

"Yes but they rarely need my assistance after eight at night."

"Would you mind coming here tomorrow night sir?"

"Of course. I already will have to come over every night to bring the anti-amidic anyways before you start the chemo."

"What's an anti-amidic?"

"Something that we give you to help prevent nausea."

"Alright."

"Let me know at once if you start suffering any side-effects from your MCDI," said Severus.

"Alright," said Harry. "I forgot to take my steroid since I missed dinner due to falling asleep, can I take it with my seizure medication when I get back to the dorm?"

"Yes but please try and take it at the appropriate time from now on," said Harry's healer.

..:..

Hermione's POV

Hermione lay in her four-poster bed with a large book on her chest. She took it to bed with her intending to get some light reading done but she couldn't get what Harry had said out of her head.

She couldn't get over the fact that Harry's migraine headaches had an origin other than Voldemort. She had believed her friend's story. Ordinarily Hermione Granger didn't fall for others lies, but she logically realized that it was possible that she just hadn't wanted to see it. She had probably been in denial that they might be more serious than Harry portrayed.

..:..

A/n: Read and review. I hope that you liked this and don't find Severus's actions to ooc. The reason that I have Severus administering the meds and the oncologist ordering them is because that's oftentimes how things are done with regular doctors. I tried to do my research about the port. I hope that I got it right.

The reason that I had Ron's uncle die of cancer was so that I didn't have to explain things further. I do realize that this makes the whole cancer is rare in magical people a bit unbelievable, but I promise that no one else that Harry tells is going to know about cancer. The cop out ends with Ron. Lol I could see the Weasleys marrying people not that magically powerful and perhaps a muggle or two so this allows for them to become more easily ill with muggle diseases that are usually bred out of pure blood families. This doesn't mean that their magic is any weaker but instead is an attempt to show how Ron knows about cancer.


	13. Chapter 13: Todesgefahr

Diagnosis

A/N: Thanks a bunch for the reviews. Hope all of you have a happy fourth of July today.

Warning violence ahead.

Disclaimer: Nope not rich nor am I famous. Looks like I'm in the clear as to not owning the Potter universe.

Chapter 13: Todesgefahr

..:..

Harry stood over a woman's prone body with his pale hand raised. In it he held a long slender yew wand. "Tell me the location of the Order of the Phoenix."

"No," said Hestia Jones. "What makes you think that I could divulge that information to you even if I wanted too?"

"Chrucio," cast Harry.

Hestia screamed. Her three children cowered in fear in the corner. Luckily for him, her husband was out at a friends for the night.

"Are you ready to talk now," said Bellatrix Lestrange.

Hestia cleared her throat shaking from the after-effects of the torture curse. "You'll have to kill me before I tell you."

"Bellatrix get the girl from over their. She'll talk if we hurt her children. Good mothers always do," said the Dark Lord.

The six-year-old resisted Bellatrix's attempts to bodily force her to come into the center of the Livingroom. Growing tired of the brave girl's resistance, Peter summoned the girl into the center of the floor.

"Stop fighting. It'll do you no good. Now tell your mummy to give me the information I want," stated Voldemort angrily.

The girl remained mute. She had a look of terror on her young face.

"Flagracio," cast Harry on the young girl. Harry watched on in a glee that was not his own as the girl was tortured endlessly with the whipping curse and many others. By the end of the torture session, the girl had welts all over her young body.

Bellatrix and the other death eaters took their turns torturing the other two children and Hestia just for the fun of it.

But Voldemort didn't get wrapped up in the sadism for he was on a mission. "Tell me where the stronghold of the Order of the Phoenix is located. Come on, don't make this any more difficult on you than it already is. If you don't tell me what I want to know then I'll start cutting off your limbs and make you tell me. Trust me, you do not want to suffer through that. I've heard that the pain of loss of limbs while conscious rivals the pain of the Cruciatus Curse. I dare say you know what that feels like by now."

"The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is in Edinborough," lied Hestia. She never intended on telling Lord Voldemort even if she could, for she knew that Riddle wouldn't let them live regardless. Unluckily for Hestia's overall health, she couldn't tell the Dark Lord regardless because of the Fidelius charm. She wondered if he knew this and was just torturing them for the fun of it.

"Wrong," said Voldemort. "Sectumsempra."

Lord Voldemort surveyed his handiwork with a thrill of excitement. He had severed Hestia's left leg. The woman let out a long blood-curdling scream. Voldemort cauterized the wound so that she wouldn't bleed out before he was through with her.

"I will only ask one more time, where do you lot hold your meetings?"

"I-in England," sobbed Hestia. She was glad that the fidelius charm wouldn't allow her to reveal more than that.

"As I expected. I see that you tell the truth," said Riddle looking into her eyes. "An address or specific city location is needed to ensure your families survival."

"No. You can't make me tell you. I've already said too much, my colleagues will never forgive me."

"Very well, have it your way then. Kill the children."

Hestia was tied up with an incarserous spell so she was helpless to do anything as the death eaters killed the children with the Avada Kedavra one by one.

Hestia was inconsolable at this point.

"J-just k-kill m-me," sobbed Hestia.

"Very well. I can tell that you will give us no more information. Avada Kedavra."

After all that the family had suffered through, death was a relief.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry awoke sitting bultright up in bed and vomiting over the side. He clutched his forehead in pain. He looked around the room for someone who could help him. Spotting a blurry figure right beside him that looked vaguely Ron-shaped Harry turned to him saying, "Go get Professor McGonagall."

"Don't you need to talk to the Headmaster if it's a vision from Voldemort that's causing you trouble?"

"Yes but he may not be in."

Harry sat their as Ron left the dorm. His head ached something fierce, but since this was not a tumor headache, he was unsure if he could take the pain potion made for his tumor driven migraines.

"You alright their mate," asked Neville.

"Not really. I feel nauseous from the vision and am in quite a lot of pain. Whenever he tortures someone, the pain is always worse in my scar."

"What did you see," asked Neville, not really wanting to know but needing to know at the same time.

"I can't tell you. It's probably going to be classified information for the Order's ears only."

"Oh I see," said Neville. "Well can I get you some water? I bet you'd like to get that horrid taste out of your mouth huh?"

"Yeah mate," said Harry reaching out for the water goblet that Neville had poured Harry from the pitcher on a nearby table. "Thanks."

Harry sipped the water after rinsing his mouth out and spitting into a small goblet that he found on his bedside table. He wondered if Dobby had put it their last night in case he got sick. Severus had instructed the house elf to make sure that Harry had anything he might need during the night last night just in case the potion made him nauseous.

Professor McGonagall entered the dormitory with Ron fast on her heels.

"Mr. Potter are you alright," asked the transfiguration professor.

She saw Harry sitting on his bed white faced and shaking.

"You look a bit peaky, do you want me to go get Madame Pomfrey," asked McGonagall.

"No I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore," said Harry.

"Does your head hurt," asked Ron who knew how Harry's scar acted up at times even when Harry wasn't having a vision from Lord Voldemort.

"Yes," said Harry through clenched teeth.

"Take your headache potion I don't reckon it'll hurt you to do so," said Neville. "You know why it was prescribed but I suspect that Madame Pomfrey would allow you to take it now, even if it isn't your condition that's caused the pain."

Harry reached out and pulled the draw on his bedside table open and uncorked the vial. He took one swallow before replacing the cork and stowing the potion away. Harry's brow relaxed a few minutes later and he let out a sigh of relief.

"Let's go," said McGonagall.

Harry made to get up reaching out for Ron's proffered hand.

Harry looked around at all of his roommates whom his screams had awoken and apologized for waking them. Everyone except for Seamus told him that it was no trouble and not to worry about it. The Irish bloke looked resentful even though it had not been Harry's fault.

Harry and Professor McGonagall made their way through the various corridors that lay between Gryffindor Tower and the Headmaster's office.

"Cockroach clusters," said the deputy Headmistress.

The stone gargoyle moved aside and the duo made their way up the winding staircase.

Before either of them could knock, the headmaster bade them to enter. He sat in front of his wooden desk dressed in a blue dressing gown looking as if he had been expecting them.

"Have a seat please Harry. Do you wish to remain until Mr. Potter has finished his tale," asked Albus.

"That won't be necessary," said Minerva. She feared that Albus would be able to find out about Harry's illness if she were left to long in his presence, because the transfiguration professor was no master when it came to Occlumency. "Is it alright if I entrust Mr. Potter to your care?"

"Yes of course."

McGonagall left the office and Harry began to tell the aged Headmaster what he had seen.

"It was Hestia Jones," began Harry. "Lord Voldemort evidently somehow discovered that she was a member of the Order. He came to her families house to try and find out where the meetings are being held. He tortured her so horrifically. He used a whipping curse on one of her children to try and force her to answer his questions."

Harry's throat began to close up with tears.

"Take your time," said Albus with a concerned look on his face.

"When she obviously lied about the location, he began to torture her other two younger children as well. After he cut off her leg and killed all three of her children, she finally broke and told him all that the charm would allow. It was of no use. H-he killed them all."

"I'm really sorry that you had to witness all of that. But I need to know how much she told him."

"Hestia only told him that the Order of the Phoenix meetings took place in England. But I thought that you would be unable to tell even that what with the whole fidelius charm. Aren't you the Secret Keeper sir?"

"Yes and that's where the problem lies I'm afraid."

"What do you mean," asked Harry.

"I'm sure that you have realized that my hand ails me quite a bit now."

"Yes but you have as of yet to tell me how you injured it."

"That's still another story for another day I'm afraid," said Albus sternly. "But like I was saying, as the curse grows stronger, my magic grows gradually weaker. I fear that it has weakened the protection of Grimmald Place enough that we need to find a new Secret Keeper. Mr. Potter would you do the honors of being the Order's Secret Keeper?"

"Sir I have to decline. It's not that I don't want too, but my magic will not be strong enough to maintain the secret forever."

"You must maintain the secret only until Tom is vanquished," wheedled Albus.

"I must still say no. I'm afraid that you'll have to find someone else," said Harry his cheeks reddening.

"Why Harry?"

Harry took in a deep breath. He supposed that he could keep the secret of his cancer from the Headmaster no longer. But could he trust Albus to keep the secret from the Order and Hogwarts at large until he was ready for them to know? Oh well, he supposed that it was not up to him any longer because he couldn't except Albus's request and be the Secret Keeper because he didn't know how long he had. The charm would fail upon the Secret Keeper's death. And this Harry knew for certain, was why Albus wanted to change the secret to another.

"Why do we need to change Secret Keepers so urgently," asked Harry. "The charm has not fallen entirely."

"It's enough that the secret has been breached," replied Albus. "Who knows how long until he finds a new target and tortures them into compliance. If the secret grows even less bound by magic, then they could betray our location albeit unwillingly."

"Are you expecting to die sir," asked Harry.

"If Severus can not find a cure for my hand soon, the curse will prove fatal. I trust that you will keep this knowledge in the strictest of confidences."

"Of course sir," said Harry. "I'm really sorry to hear that, but if anyone can find something to halt the curse altogether, it's Severus."

"He doesn't seem optimistic," said Albus forlornly. "But what's your reason for declining my request?"

"First of all, I'm to young for such a responsability. And because I have an illness of my own that I am battling. I only have a 5% chance of surviving it."

Albus winced.

"What's ailing you Harry?"

"I have brain cancer. Bad cells are growing in my brain and taking over. Severus is going to brew a potion that I'll take for a while that might cure me, but I can't risk all of our safety by having the charm fail upon my death sir."

"Me neither. I didn't realize how pertinent it was that I change Secret Keepers until our location was almost given away tonight. I'll hold an Order meeting here at Hogwarts and see if we have any volunteers for the job. It can wait a bit though as Hestia did not reveal our exact location to them though it was a near miss. Thank you for your time and for being frank with me. Though I am not as strong as I used to be, I do not think that I am weak enough that we must find a new Secret Keeper tonight. Stay well Harry. You may return to your dormitory."

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry sat down at the lunch table on Monday afternoon dreading the arduous night ahead of him. He was nervous about his first Todesgefahr treatment. He also was apprehensive about his first radiotherapy treatment. Having cancer sure could be bothersome at times.

Harry put some mashed potatoes and green beans on his plate. He really didn't feel much like eating but decided that he would eat regardless. Madame Pomfrey would only obsess about his care if he stopped eating this early in the game.

He raised his fork to his lips stoically chewing a bite of food. He wasn't worried that the Celmosphocide was the cause of his decreased appetite since it was not an expected side-effect. No, that whole problem would start tonight once the Todesgefahr was administered.

"I'm glad that potions went off without a hitch today," said Hermione. "After last night, I wasn't sure if Professor Snape would be in a good mood or not."

"You-know-who probably didn't punish him last night," replied Ron.

"No he was to busy killing Hestia and her children," came Harry's depressed reply. "But how did you know about it Hermione?"

"Ron told me," replied Hermione sheepishly.

"Okay, just try and keep these things just between the three of us okay," answered Harry.

"Alright."

Harry took his prednisone with pumpkin juice. He hoped that no one was looking as he did so, because he was afraid that they would ask him questions about what he was taking.

..:..

Harry's POV

The trio found themselves outside the DADA classroom about thirty minutes later. They were chatting about inane things. It was nice to just be able to disconnect from what happened last night and talk amongst his friends Harry reflected.

"Come in," said Professor Jacobs.

The class of Gryffindors and Slytherins filed into the classroom.

"For the first part of the lesson we will be taking notes on the importance of nonverbal spellcasting. Professor Dumbledore has requested that I begin you lot on a more challenging curriculum than we have been doing. To be honest with you, I'm not sure how I feel about this, but he said that he wanted this course to focus more on the Dark Arts and how to protect oneself from them. Rather than magical creatures and how to defend oneself from them. Let's begin."

Harry diligently took notes. He found this notetaking process worthless since they had been casting nonverbal spells in every other class for a month now, but wisely he kept his mouth shut.

Harry wrote and he wrote.

Towards the halfway point in the lecture, Harry's hand began to cramp from all of the writing. He made a mental note to ask Professor Dumbledore if he could use a Quick quotes quill for his notes from now on. If he didn't misuse it like Rita Skeeter did then he saw no reason for the Headmaster to deny him. After all, wouldn't he need some accommodations once his Todesgefahr began in earnest?

Just as Harry was about to chuck his quill across the classroom in frustration, the professor finished writing on the chalkboard. Finally, the practical portion of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class was upon them.

"Alright folks, for the remainder of this class, I want you to pair up into groups of two and practice performing the jelley-leggs jinx and the shield. One person will fire the jinx and the other will attempt to defend against it."

"For Merlin's sake," griped Draco Malfoy. "We began performing nonverbal magic ages ago. Do we have too?"

Unluckily for Draco, Professor Jacobs apparently had overheard the comment.

"Ten points from Slytherin for your cheek Mr. Malfoy. Once you all can prove your competence, then and only then can we move onto learning new spells."

Harry smiled upon hearing this. They were actually going to learn new spells like a real Defense course should be taught?

"Will you teach us new spells, jinxes, and hexes," inquired Harry excited at the prospect.

"If you can prove to me that you're serious about the topic then yes. Professor Dumbledore wants me to train you lot up in order for you to be able to defend yourself against unfriendly people."

Harry decided to do something either really brave or really stupid and walked over to Malfoy asking him if he would mind being his partner. The surprising thing was that Malfoy agreed. His only request was that Harry not waste his time by being incompetent.

Harry watched as Ron paired up with Lavender. This was not going Harry's way. He was hoping that Ron and Hermione would find it within their hearts to work together. Alas Ron was still very much interested in Lav-Lav.

Harry and Draco agreed that Harry should try casting the Jinx first and Draco should use the shield charm. Harry's jinx was performed perfectly but it didn't hit Draco because his shield had been cast perfectly and he successfully blocked it.

Harry overheard Pansy muttering the incantation under her breath. Apparently some people had yet to learn the subtle art of silent spell casting.

Then Draco took his turn at the jinx; while Harry put up a shield.

The rest of the class Harry and Draco spent chatting quietly amongst themselves. Much to the Gryffindor's amusement, the blond and he did not argue once all lesson. Though their conversation was interrupted when Professor Jacobs came over and had them show him their work. Neither of them minded showing off a bit and they flawlessly performed the magic. Not everyone was as lucky to receive the Professor's praise though, when they failed to perform the magic silently. Some muttered the incantation under their breaths while others had what looked like a constipated look on their face as they tried to will the magic to work.

Hermione was one of the students who could also perform the spell and shield correctly and nonverbally.

..:..

Draco's POV

"How did you like Professor Jacob's class today Millie," asked Draco.

"It was fine. I did well as I had expected. What about you?"

"Flawlessly," replied Draco arrogantly.

"Don't boast," grumbled Pansy sullenly.

"I can't help it if some people just can't measure up to my high standards," said Draco snootily. It wasn't that he didn't like Pansy, it was just that he grew tired of her presence some times. Perhaps he resented her because his father had tried to betroth her to him. Draco had quickly shot him down by telling him that he was gay. Boy did Lucius flip out at that announcement. All that mattered to Draco though was that his mum accepted him for who he was.

"Did you see who I worked with in DADA today," asked Draco with a smile.

"Your fave boy-toy," said Blaise in a sing-song voice. "You two will be getting married before you know it."

"Shut it you," said Draco throwing his pillow at the Italian.

"Make me."

A friendly pillow fight broke out in the boy's dormitory. Of course Pansy and Millicent joined in as well.

After the sixth year Slytherins were well and good out of breath, Millicent decided that a change of venue was what they needed.

"Want to play a game of snap," asked Millie.

"Sure," replied Draco, moving the stuff off of his bed so that Millicent could sit down to play.

After their impromptu game of exploding snap was over, the group of friends spent the rest of their time before dinner talking about the enigma that was Harry Potter.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry sat between Ron and Hermione playing referee during dinner. Apparently the two had been arguing about Ron and Lavender's actions in the common room which consisted of snogging and then snogging some more. The two were really getting to hot and heavy in a public area where everyone could see if you asked Harry, but the thing was, Lavender and Ron stated to everyone that asked that they were madly in love and were just expressing their feelings for one another.

Thankfully for Harry's mental health, the owls took that minute to fly into the Great Hall. Harry had been dreading the owls next delivery all day. Because he was sure that the Daily Prophet had gotten wind of what had happened last night. Sure enough, it was front page news.

On the front of the page was a photograph of a house with the Dark Mark above it with the caption, Dark Lord Attacks. The article dutifully reported the deaths of the four Jones's and glossed over the details of the murders. Harry had figured that they would since the details were too gruesome for the general public to read about. The article went on to talk about how the husband was taking their passing and how one could defend themselves if attacked by death eaters.

Once Harry finished reading the paper, he looked around to judge his fellow students reactions.

They all looked shocked at the news.

Whispers spread in the hall about how the poor husband was surviving without his family that had been slaughtered and how awful of a thing it was for that to happen.

Harry did his best to block it all out.

He didn't have long until it was time for him to portkey to the hospital in Chelsea for his radiation.

"Ron Neville and Hermione, it's time for me to go and do that thing…you know the one. I'll be back as soon as I can," said Harry drinking some pumpkin juice before taking his final dose of prednisone for the day. He had to take pills four times a day and he was already growing tired of it.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry landed with an oomph outside of the hospital where his radiation would take place this evening. He made his way to the reception desk to check in. Then he went to the waiting room to wait. He spent most of his time filling out consent forms for the radiation.

Once they called him back to the room he lay down. He felt ready to begin after he had underwent the simulation procedure the day before yesterday. He had used make-up to cover the tattoos until this evening when he was forced to clean it off. Fortunately, none of his friends had seen his two tattoos yet. He wondered what they would say when they did.

He underwent the set-up process after changing into a gown.

Once he was positioned on the bed correctly and his newly made mask was positioned properly, they began administering the radiation.

The machine moved around, turning on and off several times as it did it's thing.

After a while, the machine turned off and someone on the radiation care team came in reminding him of the possible likely side-effects to expect and then they told him that he was free to go.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry made his way down to Severus's quarters at seven fifty-five that night. He was relieved that as of yet, no side-effects had begun. But then again, he knew that the onset of side-effects probably wouldn't take place so soon after his first radiotherapy session. It hadn't even been two hours since the procedure had taken place so he put it out of his mind for now.

"Come in," came Severus's voice.

Harry uttered the same password as yesterday and entered the professor's quarters.

"Is healer Robertson here yet," asked Harry with a note of concern in his voice.

"Yes Harry. I promised you I'd be here and I always deliver on my promises."

Harry entered the livingroom proper and saw the two men sitting amiably together on the divan.

"Are you ready to get started," asked the healer kindly.

"Yes sir."

Harry followed the two men into the professor's private office which was where the treatment would take place. He spotted the same purple potion in a cauldron and another clear colored potion in a rather large cauldron as well.

"If I need a lot more of the Todesgefahr than I do the Celmosphocide, then how will you give me it sir," asked Harry of Severus.

"Healer Robertson is going to spell a precise amount of the Todesgefahr into this IV bag for me and I'm going to cool it with a cooling charm. After you are given the muggle medication for nausea, we will begin the drip of that potion over their," said Severus pointing to the clear potion. "It will take about an hour for the Todesgefahr to run out. After I vanish both the empty bags, I will remove the tubing from the needle in your port, then flush it with saline and heparin like I did yesterday."

"Oh okay. But I thought that we were going to be practicing…" Harry looked at his potions master for permission to continue in front of his healer. "Occlumency during this time as well."

"You may begin to sort your memories into some form of organization Before beginning to construct a barrior or some other form of a deterrent to help protect your memories from me."

"But I thought that Occlumency was practiced by clearing the mind," came Harry's confused reply.

"This is just one method of performing the mind arts, but I noticed last year that this method was not successful for you, we will be trying the new method that I mentioned."

Harry was willing to try anything to block the horrid visions from Lord Voldemort short of cutting off his own hand.

"Alright sir. Can we begin the treatment now?"

"Sure," said healer Robertson.

The healer rolled an infusion pump into the room. On the pole with wheels was a bag of clear liquid.

"I-is that the potion?"

"No Harry. This is the anti-amedic."

"And that's to prevent the nausea," asked Harry.

"Yes. But before we hook you up to this tubing and start your infusion, we need to administer the Celmosphocide."

"I'm going to need some blood again Harry," said Severus not unkindly. "Is it alright if I call you Harry during your treatments?"

Harry's face scrunched up in thought. Deciding that it was best if he remain polite, Harry answered in the affirmative that yes he could use his first name.

"Alright then Harry, Please hold out your hand and cut a small place on whichever finger you wish to get the blood from this evening."

Severus brought over a beaker of the deep purple potion.

Harry dripped some blood into the potion. It turned a bright red color. Then, Severus healed the cut.

The potions master drew up the proper amount into a syringe. Healer Robertson removed the dressing so that Severus could administer the potion.

After all of the potion had cleared the syringe and thus entered into Harry's body through the port and catheter system, Severus disposed of that syringe and he got another syringe and flushed the port with saline before hooking Harry up to the anti-amedic.

"You start up the infusion pump with a tap of your wand right here," said the healer pointing to a spot on the screen where you could see the list of things to alter like the flow rate etc. "I've already set the flow rate on low. This will usually be the rate at which we need to administer the Todesgefahr and the anti-amedic. If there's some sort of emergency and Harry needs anything during an emergency, like blood or IV fluids, you just adjust the flow rate like this."

The healer demonstrated the wand taps and movements of how to do so for Severus.

"We're going to begin giving you the drug for nausea," said the healer in a gentle voice. "This won't hurt though it might feel a bit cold. Once this drug is done, I will teach Severus how to spell the Todesgefahr into the bag."

"Harry I want you to begin to organize your mind. I will expect you every day while we're giving you the drug for nausea to work on the mind arts. It will help pass the time and will give you something to do other than worrying about the upcoming treatment."

"Okay."

Harry watched on in interest as the healer spelled a precise amount of the chemo potion into the bag. He then set it under a cooling charm so that it would be administered at roughly the same temperature as the anti-amedic.

Harry slowly retreated into his mind. He then began to reshape his mind. He decided to organize his mind into a library. He sorted the memories into different books. He then changed the labeling system of the books into ancient hieroglyphics to make it harder for one to pick through his memories. After everything was sorted except for the important memories that he absolutely could not let Voldemort get ahold of, he then hid the memories in a special part of his mind. He came up with a defense for his mind then heavily booby-trapped the space where the memories like the prophecy and the lessons with Dumbledore were kept.

Harry was interrupted by Severus some time later.

"We're going to administer the potion now Harry. If you're not done organizing your mind then we'll begin doing this again tomorrow."

"I'm done sir. I found this process challenging but obtainable. Sir why didn't you teach me this method last year?"

"I'm what they call a natural Occlumens. I use that method of clearing your mind rather than what I instructed you to do this evening. Professor Dumbledore and I talked about this and he asked me if I would try doing it this way with you. He thought that this would prove easier than what I had you do last year."

"Alright. When can we begin to practice Occlumency?"

"During the weekends," said Severus. "To be more specific, on Saturdays."

The potion was hung onto the stand and Severus started it up after being given the go-ahead from the oncologist.

Severus handed Harry a bucket. Harry assumed that the bucket was for him to throw up in if he felt sick.

Harry let out a hiss of pain between his teeth.

"Are you in any pain," asked the healer.

"It hurts. Is the potion supposed to cause pain when administered?"

"Unfortunately yes. It has basalisk venom as part of the ingredients. The fangs that are used have the venom sacks still attached."

"Then I'm going to die if we don't get Fawkes down here right now," said Harry dramatically.

"No you're not," reassured the oncologist.

"How is that possible?"

"Because the toxicity of the venom is diluted by other ingredients," said Severus.

"I didn't know that," said Harry in a calmer tone.

"You still have a lot to learn about potions Harry," said Severus. "That's why you're going to take extra lessons remember?"

Thirty minutes went by without Harry getting sick.

"I thought that nausea was an expected side-effect," said Severus wondering why Potter was not getting sick already. "Is it working correctly?"

"Yes but to be honest, it will take several doses before the potion will start to have an effect on the body and cancer."

"I guess he's one of the lucky one's though," said the healer. "Some patients start throwing up immediately."

Harry's face scrunched up in pain again.

"Can I have anything for the pain," asked Harry.

"Is it your head," asked Severus. "Or body pain?"

"Neither, it just hurts to get the infusion."

"Unfortunately, there's nothing that we can do about that," said the healer. "But if you're in pain after your treatment then we can treat that."

Harry supposed that he'd just have to be brave and endure the pain.

"would you like to listen to the wireless during treatment to distract yourself from the pain," asked Severus. "I have a wizarding wireless in my quarters that we can use."

"That's a good idea," said the healer.

Severus went and got the wireless then had Harry pick a station to listen too. Unfortunately for Severus's nerves Harry picked a rock & roll station. Apparently the boy liked the Weird Sisters since it was their song that caught the boy's attention.

Harry only got sick once before the infusion was completed.

Harry let out a sigh of relief once the bag of Todesgefahr had emptied.

"Madame Pomfrey and I find it wise for you to stay tonight in the hospital wing so that we can observe you more closely their," said Severus.

"Alright. I already told Neville and Ron that Madame Pomfrey might want me to stay the night, so they won't be looking for me in the dorm tonight," said Harry.

Severus disconnected Harry from the clear tubing. Then he grabbed a new syringe and flushed the port with saline and heparin. He did everything else he needed to the port then he covered it with the tape and dressing.

"Are you feeling good enough to walk to the hospital wing on your own," asked the Healer.

"Yes I'm not dizzy or anything yet," said Harry.

"Alright then Mr. Potter. I'll see you tomorrow night then," said Severus.

..:..

A/N: I wanted to get a chapter to you today, so this chapter only takes place over one day. I was planning on having it span the whole week. Oh well I guess I'll have to try for that goal next time. I hope that the reasoning behind the need for a new Secret Keeper makes sense to you. Of course this way, when and if the Headmaster dies, the Order will still have a Headquarters available this way. I do realize that the whole weakening of the charm is not cannon, but then again we'll never know since Harry didn't have cancer in JKR's world and Albus didn't make arrangements for his death like he will here.

As for the whole simulation thing, I did mention in a previous chapter about the making of the mask but hadn't done my research about the tattoos and stuff so I had to improvise when writing that scene. Again, I am not a medical professional so when it comes to his cancer treatments, I am just doing my research as I go. If you have real world experience and you feel comfortable sharing, feel free to tell me what I'm doing right or wrong.

Also I found conflicting information about if you can do the set-up process and the first dose of radiation on the same day or not. One website said yes and one said no that you do it the next day. For the purposes of this fictional story you can do it on the same day, your appointment will just take longer.


	14. Chapter 14: Acceptance

Diagnosis

A/N: First I'd like to thank all of you for the reviews. To the guest reviewer, I'd like to thank you for your suggestion. I apologize for this chapter taking so long to be finished. I can only say, I'll try and do better next time.

'written by Harry for communication'

"spoken aloud"

/parseltoungue/

Disclaimer: Much to my disappointment, I don't own the rights to the Potter verse.

Chapter 14: Acceptance

..:..

Harry took the time to run to his dormitory to retrieve all of his medications that he'd need in the morning. After doing that, he made his way slowly to the hospital wing.

A weary Harry pushed open the hospital wing doors. A loud creak met his ears as he did so. He collapsed onto the bed that had been made available for his hospital stay.

"How are you feeling Harry," asked Madame Pomfrey as she approached the bed that Harry was laying in. "Come on and get changed into these pajamas for me Harry."

Harry looked exhausted, but Poppy Pomfrey knew that Harry would feel much better if he had something more comfortable to wear to bed. She had been told to expect him to be rather ill throughout the nights following his treatments.

"I'm fine," slurred Harry.

"Did your treatment make you this tired," asked Poppy, she had been told to expect this, but seeing Harry so fatigued was nevertheless a difficult sight for her to witness.

Harry let out a yawn before replying, "I dunno."

"Alright, here's a bucket just in case you get nauscious from either the radiotherapy or the potions. Ring this bell if you have need of me during the night," said Poppy handing a bell to Harry.

Poppy left Harry to take his nightly medication and went to bed herself.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry woke with a start, sitting up in his bed in a hurry. He tried to get the bucket in time, but it was not quite in the spot where he had reached for it. In addition to the nausea roiling in his stomach, his eyes took this opportune moment to malfunction. His double vission was back. He couldn't hold the sick in any longer and threw up all over the floor.

When he was able to stop sicking up for a moment, he grabbed the bucket. He had hoped forlornly that he would only hurl once, but alas his prayers were not answered.

Harry continued to sick up until the contence of his stomach were completely out of his system.

He gasped for breath, unable to take in adequate amounts of air due to the severity of his nausea.

Madame Pomfrey came into the room saying, "Oh dear Mr. Potter. Are you quite alright?"

Harry shook his head in the negative dry heaving again.

"Did Healer Robertson give you anything to take for the nausea you will experience after your treatments?"

The Gryffindor shook his head again.

"We'll have to remedy that then," said the healer firmly. "Let me floo him and see if there's anything that he can prescribe."

Madame Pomfrey put her hand on the lad's forehead to check for any fever. With some relief, she found that his temperature was normal. She had cast a diagnostic spell to double-check his temperature.

Several agonizing moments later, Madame Pomfrey was back with a bottle of pills.

"The healer was unable to come over himself, given this late hour, but he has prescribed an antiamidic for you to take every day. Since it is one in the morning, you can go ahead and take today's dose."

"Alright," said Harry reluctantly. "Hopefully I'll be able to keep it down."

..:..

Harry's POV

The next morning Harry was relieved that for the most part, his nausea of the night before was gone. The healer had said that once the initial throwing up was done after his nightly treatments, that he might have a recovery period lasting until he next took the medication. He was relieved when this proved to be true. Because after how ill he had been last night, he had been worried about how he would make it through his classes having to throw up so much.

"Where were you last night," asked Dean.

"In the hospital wing," muttered Harry. He figured that if he didn't try and hide the fact that he was ill, his fellow Gryffindors would take things in stride and just except his word on the matter. No one asked any more questions. Harry was pleased that his little bit of reverse psychology had worked. This may have been in part due to the fact that his mates helped him tactfully divert Seamus and Deans curiosity on the matter.

Harry took his morning medications and picked at his food. While he wasn't chucking up anymore, he just didn't find the smell or look of their morning's breakfast appetizing. He didn't want to chance a trip to the loo, so he ate what amounted to about two bites before giving it up as a bad job.

The day seemed to drag by, Harry found himself being shuffled from lecture to lecture by his concerned friends. Ron had mentioned in passing that Harry didn't look to good to Hermione. Hermione had reassured him that this was normal given the strength of the potions regimen that he was on.

Despite Hermione's reassurance, Ron asked Harry if their was anything out of the ordinary wrong with him.

Harry had proceeded to tell him that his head was hurting and that he had already taken his migraine potion and it hadn't helped much.

"But I thought that this potion was one of the best specifically tailored to you," asked Ron.

"It is for the tumor headaches, but one side-effect from the radiation was headaches that don't respond to migraine medications. I'll ask my nurse about it tonight," said Harry. "Don't worry about me mate, I'll be alright."

..:..

Harry's POV

Later that evening found Harry laying atop of the table for his second radiation treatment. He was not sure how this made him feel. On one hand, he was happy that he was being proactive by undergoing the radiotherapy. Yet he worried that the radiation would somehow be ineffective.

Before Harry knew it, the radiation nurse had started the radiation treatment.

After the treatment had concluded, the nurse had asked Harry if he had had any questions about his treatment thus far.

"Yes, I got a headache this morning that persisted all day despite me taking my pain medication, is this due to the radiation treatments?"

"It can be. If these headaches persist and aren't due to anything like tumor headaches, we can either increase the medication you're already on or start you on a stronger medication. We'll be discussing your treatments this Friday just to see how things are going. Your doctor will decide then what to do."

"Thanks," said Harry getting off of the table. He took a moment to steady himself as a bout of dizziness came over him. He hated when his body betrayed him like this. He wondered how much more infirm his tumor would make him before it was all over. Logically he knew that as the treatments progressed, the symptoms of the cancer might lessen, yet he could not feel relief at this because he knew that the symptoms of all of the stuff he had to take would eclipse the symptoms of the cancer.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry lay back on the bed in Severus's private office awaiting his potions.

Professor Snape opened the door and brought over a beaker full of a deep purple potion. Harry held out his right hand to be pricked with the silver knife. Harry watched in fascination as the potion turned a bright red color. Severus first healed the cut on Harry's right middle finger. "Now I'm going to access your port and give you the MCDI."

Harry lay their trying to contain his nervousness about receiving both drugs.

Severus accessed the port then administered the potion. Once he finished, he got a new syringe and hooked up the anti-amidic. He also spelled the other potion into the bag just like Healer Robertson had taught him yesterday. He cast a cooling charm on it so that it would be about the same temperature as the anti-amidic for Harry's comfort.

"Where's my healer," asked Harry looking around the room and straining his ears to hear if anyone else were in the Professor's quarters. "I thought that he said yesterday that he'd be here too."

"He did indeed, but he had to leave after giving me the nausea drug. He said that he had something urgent to take care of and that he'd still be available if we have need of him. However he won't be able to be here throughout the treatment tonight unless anything goes wrong."

"Okay."

The Gryffindor watched on as the nausea drug trickled into his chest. He felt both apprehensive about and eager for his treatment to begin. He wanted to beat this disease, but he knew that to do so would be a very challenging and rigorous task to accomplish.

"After this bag is finished, we're going to start up the magical chemo. Is that alright with you Mr. Potter?"

Harry momentarily fantasized about telling him no, just to see what his response would be, but he knew that Severus was easily irritated so he wisely said nothing.

"Would you like to listen to the wireless again," asked Severus, clearing his throat and looking slightly embarrassed to even ask such a kind thing to a student.

"Yes, but I wonder why you have a wireless sir."

"It's young Mr. Malfoy's. Draco likes to listen to the Quidditch tournaments on it. And since I'm his godfather, I got him the wireless and keep it here in my quarters for when he visits."

"Oh," said Harry blushing. He found it hard to picture his dire potions professor as being a godfather to anyone, much less Draco of all people, but he held his tongue.

"Who's his favorite Quidditch team," asked Harry unable to resist.

"Puddlemeer United."

"And you," asked Severus curtly.

"The Holyhead Harpies," said Harry.

The drip trickled into his body slowly. Harry wished that it would just hurry up and finish already so that he could finish his treatment. Because last night he had taken this anti-amidic and he had still wound up being horribly sick later that night regardless.

Thirty minutes later found Harry still laying their with the last of the nausea drug dripping into his port. Severus stopped the machine before hooking up the dreaded bag of Todesgefahr. He then set the flowrate and tapped the start button on the wizarding machine.

Unlike last time, Harry was not so lucky and he was getting sick after just ten minutes of starting the drip.

Severus could only look on as the Boy-who-lived got progressively worse as time went on.

"I'll be back with the Wireless and the healer. You're not looking so well," said a nervous Severus. "Spot."

A middle-aged house elf popped into the room and looked around.

"Does master Severus be needing something?"

"Yes, Harry this is my house elf and his name is Spot. He's going to look after you until I get back with healer Robertson. Is that alright?"

Harry nodded, looking green.

Harry continued to sick up the meager contents of his stomach. Today had been a disaster and he was grateful that the day was almost over.

A few minutes passed as Harry awaited his healer. Yesterday, the healer had instructed Severus to come and get him if something went wrong during Harry's treatment, so Harry knew why Severus had to leave him. Nevertheless, he found himself feeling uneasy about being by himself during his treatment with only Snape's house elf for company.

The door opened admitting Severus with the Wireless in hand. "He's on his way. He said that he'll bring over another anti-amidic, this one is a stronger one and we'll see how you feel after that alright?"

Harry spat into the bucket then said, "Okay."

Severus fiddled with the Wireless until he found a popular station that Draco listened too. He did not ask Harry for his favorite station because he knew that Harry was not doing so good.

..:..

Healer Robertson's POV

Healer Robertson strode out of the floo and made his way into Severus Snape's private office where the young Potter heir was with a IV bag in his hand. He could hear the Wireless playing softly in the background.

He knocked on the door before intruding on the duo.

Severus turned down the Wireless, much to Harry's annoyance, for he was rather enjoying that particular song.

"How are you doing Mr. Potter?"

"N-not very good," came Harry's timid reply. "The nausea drug doesn't seem to be working."

"Yes, Severus told me as much, not to worry dear, this should hook you right up."

Healer Robertson looked on as the poor lad dry-heaved into a red bucket.

He hooked up the bag onto the IV stand alongside the Todesgefahr.

He stood beside Severus and waited patiently for the new drug to work. Much to everyone's relief, after about fifteen minutes, the new anti-amidic began to work.

"Did you undergo radiotherapy today Harry," asked the healer kindly.

"Yes sir. Do you think that that's why I'm feeling so sick already?"

"Perhaps. And did you start the pill that I prescribed you last night for the nausea?"

"Yes."

"Very good. Have you been taking all of your daily medications?"

"Yes," muttered Harry.

"It may take some time before these drugs start helping you, with cancer, patience is a virtue I'm afraid."

"I'm feeling loads better now that the new drug is in my system. I'm still feeling nauscious, but not puking anymore. That's a good thing right?"

"Yes. I think that we'll start giving you this new anti-amidic from now on Harry. Is that alright with you? Are you in any pain?"

"My head has been hurting all day, but apart from that, no. And yes, you're the healer, if you think that this new drug will help me, then that's what we'll do. Right Professor Snape?"

"Yes."

"Very good. Does the drug still hurt as it passes from the port into your body?"

"Yes, but I'm not experiencing any body pain."

"That's a good thing," said the healer. "Since you're feeling better, I'd best be off. Feel free to floo me if you need anything else tonight. I've got to get back to what I was doing before you called Severus."

"Thanks for coming over so promptly," said Severus with a hint of a smile on his lips. Harry wondered bemusedly if his Professor had a thing for his healer. He refrained from commenting about it to Severus once his healer left though. Harry did not fancy a detention for his impudence anytime soon.

..:..

Harry's POV

The next morning found an exhausted Harry laying in bed in the hospital wing. Severus and Harry had both decided that during the nights of his chemotherapy that he should spend the night in the hospital wing from now on. This would allow him to get any medical attention if something went wrong. Plus Harry had worried about waking his dorm mates in the middle of the night with his retching.

Harry had spent all last night praying to the porcelain god. The healer had told Madame Pomfrey when she had flooed him out of concern for the lad that getting sick after chemo was perfectly normal and to make sure that he took his nausea medication on a regular basis. The healer also told her that he had begun Harry on a more targeted anti-amidic that he would give him before his treatments from now on, and that this should lessen the post chemo nausea.

The Gryffindor left the hospital wing and made his way to breakfast.

"Where were you last night," asked a concerned Ron in a whisper.

"The hospital wing, we decided that on Monday threw Friday nights, I'll spend the night their. Trust me, you really don't want me spending the night in the dorm when I'm feeling like that mate. I was spewing up practically all night."

"You know that we'll stand by you no matter what mate. If you change your mind, the Tower is always open to you."

"Uh huh. I know mate. You're the best," said Harry slinging an arm around Ron's shoulders.

When Hermione and Neville came in, Harry informed them about his current lodgings. Neville and Hermione had agreed that it was for the best. The three friends began to eat breakfast in a much more chipper mood now that they knew that Madame Pomfrey was looking out for Harry's well-being on a nightly basis.

Harry reluctantly drank his nutrient potion and took his morning meds. He had gotten an earful from Madame Pomfrey last evening for not eating anything much yesterday and she had made a new decree that if Harry didn't feel like partaking of food during meals that he take a nutrient potion to keep his strength up. Since his stomach was still hurting, he had taken the potion albeit reluctantly.

Later that day found the group of four friends sitting in transfiguration. Harry was in a much better mood than that morning, because he had finally mastered the first steps towards becoming an animagus. Professor McGonigall had said that if anyone in the class were to reach this step that they could come to her for extra tutoring on the animagus transfiguration.

Wanting to improve on his speed of hair and nail growth and retraction, Harry continued to practice until the end of the practical lesson.

Harry and Hermione having achieved the prerequisite transfiguration skills for the extra-credit project stayed behind and approached Professor McGonigall's desk and asked her for permission to become anamagi.

Answering in the affirmative, the professor handed them a book to read on the subject and told them that once they had gained an understanding of the basics and had read the whole book, that they were to come to her for further instruction.

..:..

Harry's POV

After all of his classes for the day were done, Harry made his way to the Gryffindor common room. He went to his dormitory and collected five sets of clothing, pajamas, socks and undergarments and took them to the hospital wing to keep their for use during his chemo days.

Madame Pomfrey had conjured a chest of droars for his use. He stowed the robes and other belongings in the droars before placing his oral care package on top of the set of droars. This oral care kit was to help prevent oral sores and to help him brush his teeth safely while undergoing his treatments. Good oral health was very important during chemo, that was if you believed his healer on the matter anyway.

Harry also stowed his medications and the pain potion in the top droar. He had left some of his meds in his dormitory for his use during weekends.

The raven-haired youth made his way first to the Ravenclaw tower to retrieve Luna finding the entrance with the Marauder's map. When he had successfully solved the riddle, they both made their way to the Gryffindor common room to get Ginny. The two girls hounded him with questions that he did not answer until they reached the Room of Requirement.

Harry paced up and down the corridor three times, thinking of needing a quiet place to talk. A wooden door popped into existence where previously had been a blank stretch of wall.

"Ladies first," said Harry ever the gentleman.

Luna and Ginny entered the very cozy looking room. Then Harry came in closing the door behind him.

"I'm sure that you both have many questions about all of the secrecy and the fact that I have yet to answer your questions. The reason is that I have some very dyer and depressing news to tell you two."

"Where are Ron and Hermione then," asked a fiery Ginny.

"Erm, they kind of already know."

"You told them and left me out of it," said Ginny growing irritated. "Is my friendship not that important to you then?"

"It is, you see, this is kind of a of a personal matter Gin."

"Gin nothing, spill," demanded Ginny.

"Harry will tell us Ginny," said Lunasurprisingly clear-headed.

"I have cancer," said Harry. This sentence never got any easier to tell, yet it was his duty to inform his mates about his condition, wasn't it?

"B-but you're a powerful wizard," said Ginny. "Isn't that impossible?"

"I'm afraid not," said Harry.

Luna looked confused, but Ginny definitely did not.

"An uncle of mine had it, and he was very sick. Are you telling me that you're very sick like he was?"

"Yes," said Harry in a calm but understanding tone. "I started treatment. That's why you have seen me taking Muggle medications at mealtimes. You two were the only two that don't know. I wanted to tell you before the whole school finds out."

"They don't have to know," said Luna. "This secret can remain between us. The crumple-horned snorkacks will help us distract them from this cancel thing. What is cancel anyways?"

"Cancer is a Muggle disease that attacks the body. Eating away at healthy tissue. I have brain cancer."

"So that's why you really quit Quidditch," said Ginny. "A-are these treatments going to help you beat the cancer then?"

"Hopefully so," said Harry.

"So bad cells are growing in your head then," asked Luna curiously. "They're taking over your brain."

"Sort of," said Harry. He wiped a tear from Ginny's eye.

"Are you going to die," asked Luna.

"I'm not going to lie to you two, I'm really sick. As of right now, the tumor is inoperable. They're giving me a chemotherapy draft, a MCDI and Muggle radiation to help shrink the tumor. If it shrinks enough, then they're going to operate and remove the tumor."

"That's a good thing then, they're hitting this thing hard and fast," said Ginny. "You'll make it, I just know it."

"Yeah, thanks you two."

"Don't give up Harry. You've been their for me here lately, so if there's anything that Luna and I can do to help you, we will," said Ginny.

Harry gave a watery-eyed Luna a hug. Then turned to Ginny and hugged her as well.

"I've got to go," said Harry standing up from the sofa that the trio had been sitting on.

"See you around then," said Ginny.

"Sure thing."

"Bye Harry," said Luna. "Don't let the rackspirts fill your brain with to much fluff."

Harry chuckled. "I won't. Take care you two."

..:..

Harry's POV

At dinner that night, a third year Hufflepuff came up to Harry with a note from the Headmaster.

Dear Harry:

Meet me in my office at seven thirty this evening. The password is Mars bars.

APWBD

After Harry had taken the portkey back from the Muggle hospital, he dutifully made his way to the Headmaster's office.

"Sir, you called," asked Harry taking the proffered seat in front of the Headmaster's desk.

"I wanted to talk to you about your cancer."

"What do you want to know," asked an exhausted Harry.

"When are you going to tell the students?"

"Erm, I wasn't planning on informing anyone but my closest friends, which I concluded doing a few hours ago."

"Harry my boy, I'm afraid that that's not possible."

"Excuse me," said Harry. He was a very private person and he did not want anyone to find out about his illness that absolutely did not need to know.

"You're taking Muggle medications at every meal, I'm afraid that even the dimmest students will notice before long as you grow progressively weaker. You're putting up a good front my boy, but I'm afraid that your rouse won't work for much longer."

"That's between myself and my healer sir," retorted Harry. "I'm not comfortable telling them until the side-effects become noticeable. The hair loss won't start until another week or so, we can tell them then. Because at that point, their won't be any way to hide it. You understand that I am very reluctant to tell them sir?"

"I do."

"Then why do you ask this of me?"

"Because you've got the image of the boy-who-lived to live up too. If you're not honest with your classmates, then how can you think that any of them will be honest with you in return?"

"That's not any of my concern. I don't frankly care what my image is or is not."

"Five points from Gryffindor for a poor attitude."

"You're being a bit of a hypocrite sir, keeping your hand hidden from us."

"If I told them about my own illness, then they would lose all hope," said Albus. "The least I can do is ask of you to be honest with them about yours. Harry can you do this for me?"

"I already said I would," said Harry acquiescing to the Headmaster's wishes at last.

"How are we going to ensure that the students with death eater families parents don't get wind of my illness then sir?"

"Very good question. I could do one of two things, use compulsion magic to bind them to secrecy or have each of them give a magically binding oath of secrecy that forbids them from telling anyone about it. The choice is yours Harry."

Harry wondered how the Headmaster of Hogwarts could swing from the ultimate manipulator of fate so easily into a perfectly amiable man who asked Harry's opinion before making decisions about Harry's life.

"I think that compulsive magic is a rather questionable avenue sir, don't you?"

"When we're in a time of war, one must occasionally use what would otherwise be a morally gray area of skills to achieve one's ends. You have a lot to learn Harry, if you ever intend to become the leader you must to win this war."

"But compulsive magic throws one's freewill out the window. How could you even think of such a thing," asked Harry, his voice sounding a bit horse.

"I have lived many a decade my boy, I'd prefer that you don't judge my own actions when you haven't had to make a similar decision."

Harry nodded reluctantly.

"So we'll tell them next weekend then," replied Harry clearing his throat. He had a sinking feeling that his wonky throat had something to do with his radiation treatments. For it had been one of the side-effects that his radiology oncologist had listed as a potential side-effect.

"Yes. Are you feeling alright Harry?"

"Yes, it's just a hoarse voice, nothing to worry about," said Harry brushing it off. "It's a known side-effect of radiotherapy which is one of the treatments that we're using to beat the cancer sir."

"Oh," said the Headmaster stunned. "And is this radiotherapy particularly dangerous?"

"It does have some risks, but I think I'll make it through."

"So are we going to use the magical oath then Harry? I'll leave it to you since it is your health we're talking about divulging to the Hogwarts populous after all."

"The magical oath on one's blood and magic should suffice," said Harry.

Ouch that hurt.

It had hurt to talk just then.

Harry rubbed his throat. It was a bit sore. He decided that he should rest his voice for the rest of the night, which was a suggestion that his nurse had mentioned for him to do if this situation arose.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry sat on the bed in Severus's quarters. His healer stood over in a corner as the Professor moved about readying the area for Harry's impending treatment.

"How are you feeling this evening," asked the healer of Harry.

"Tired and my throat is a bit scratchy and I sound a bit horse as you can hear sir."

"That's to be expected. As your radiotherapy, the chemo, and the MCDI are continually given to you, more symptoms may arise. We'll help you understand what's going on and help you deal with this as it happens."

"Oh okay," said Harry. He rubbed at his tired eyes.

"Don't do that," admonished Severus.

"Why not," asked Harry petchalantly.

"Because I need your hands to be clean for the blood to be put into the MCDI."

Harry allowed his healer to cast a schergify on his hands.

Severus brought over the dreaded knife and beaker of potion. The blood was dripped into the potion and it changed colors. Snape closed the cut with a quick spell.

The potions master sterilized Harry's port before using the special syringe to access it. He pushed the plunger and with that, the MCDI was given.

Professor Snape then started the bag of the stronger anti-amidic that they had discussed using on a regular basis. Harry prayed that it would work this time.

An hour and a half later found Harry outside the hospital wing. He pushed on the doors and made his way to the back of the infirmary where Madame Pomfrey had set up his bed, dresser and bedside table. She had redecorated his spot, moving his stuff from the center of the room to create him a room of sorts with the privacy screens making up the fourth wall.

"Do you like your new accommodations Mr. Potter," asked the matron.

"Yes ma'am."

"So how did your treatment go?"

"It went better than yesterday, plus my healer got to stay with me throughout the whole thing."

"How kind of him," she said.

"Do you have a bit of a crush on him," Madame Pomfrey inquired.

"Your face turned an interesting shade of red when I mentioned it."

"A bit, but I know that it won't go anywhere. Besides, I think that his eyes are on another."

"And prey tale who might that be?"

Harry rubbed at his eyes again. He just couldn't shake this tired feeling. Plus his head hurt.

"Professor Snape."

"hum, now that'd be an interesting couple. Do you think that Professor Snape feels the same way about him?"

"Well he certainly seems more lively when he's around," answered Harry a bit awkwardly. He wondered why Poppy had chosen to gossip about another faculty member to a student, but reasoned that his abusive childhood and his cancer had brought them close enough that she could justify doing so.

"Do you have a headache," she asked Harry.

"Yes, I suppose I should take my medication and go to bed. The healer said that I need all of the rest I can get if I'm going to beat this," answered Harry honestly.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry got up the next morning and got dressed. He grabbed his steroid, the anti-convolsant, the anti-amidic pill and the nutrient potion and put them into a small bag that Madame Pomfrey had conjured for him exactly for this purpose. This enabled him to not have to carry his pill bottles with him everywhere he went in order to have the morning, noon, and dinner dosages of his medications. He decided to forgo the migraine potion because he had taken a dose last night after his treatment. He worried about dependency. His healer, Madame Pomfrey, and Professor Snape had hassled him about not worrying about that, constantly telling him that they could worry about that after the conclusion of his treatments, yet Harry still chose to grin and bare it, skipping the pain potion for the less intense migraines.

Last night had still been a grueling time of hurling and dry heaving. His healer had been grateful that he had only felt nauseous during his treatment itself, but his luck had not lasted throughout the night.

Harry had slept on and off, but he had gotten enough sleep that he felt like going to classes this morning.

He pushed open the doors to the great hall and sat down beside Hermione who was engrossed in a thick tome.

"What are you reading this morning," asked Harry curious about what knowledge she was gaining this fine morning.

"I'm reading a book on Transfiguration theory. It's rather interesting."

"Suit yourself," said Harry who struggled with the theoretical portions of their NEWT courses. "I'm a practical applications kind of bloke."

"I'm sure you know this already, but I excel at both."

"I'm sure you do," said Harry. "You are the brightest witch of our age like Professor Lupin has said on many occasions after all."

He took a small portion of food and placed it on his plate. He grudgingly ate a few bites. His stomach roiled with nausea, but he did not sick up. He knew that he would have to learn to live with this nausea thing as it was a side-effect both of the treatments and his brain tumor itself, but it didn't make dealing with it any easier. He put his fork down and took his medications with a goblet of pumpkin juice. He decided to not take the neutrance potion and to wait until lunch to do so Since he was able to keep his small breakfast down.

Hermione kept up a conversation with Harry as she read. Only to cease talking when Lavender and Ron came into the great hall arm in arm. Harry knew that his bushy-haired friend fancied Ron and that seeing those two together made her angry and resentful, so he did not begrudge her silence.

Later that day found Hermione, Harry and Neville sitting down in a courtyard that the students frequented during their breaks. They had just left herbology and had a fifteen minute break before their next class commenced.

Hermione took a jar out of her bag and cast the blue-bell flame charm to keep them warm. She had mastered this charm during their first year so long ago. Even though she had quite more magic under her belt now, she hadn't found anything else that cast a more powerful wave of heat except for a warming charm. She had cast the blue-bell flames charm for oldtimes sake, or so she claimed for Harry. He privately knew that her warming charms weren't as powerful as his but were quite a bit better than Ron's.

Harry reached into his school bag and pulled out a sheaf of parchment, a quill, and a inkpot. He had decided that if he didn't go ahead and ask Draco to the dance, then he would never do it. Luckily for Harry, Hedwig soared in his direction. He swore sometimes that she had a sixth sense when her master needed her. He put quill to parchment and wrote:

Dear Draco:

How are you doing? It's Harry Potter. I wanted to ask a favor of you. Would you mind going to a Halloween dance on Thursday with me? Wearing a Muggle costume is required. If you except, then we can come up with something for you to wear. It starts at seven. We'll be taking a portkey their. Meet me in the entrance hall at the appointed time if you're interested.

Sincerely

Harry Potter

"Wait for a response," said Harry to his snowy white owl.

"Who are you writing too," asked Neville.

"Draco. I wanted to invite him to the Halloween dance at hospital. Do you think that he'll say yes," asked Harry excited at the prospect. He hoped that attending this dance as just friends would persuade Draco to ask him out or vice versa.

"They're having a dance for you lot then," asked Hermione.

"Yeah, we do things as a group a whole lot I think. At least that's the impression that I got from the other teens. It helps give us something other than cancer to think about."

"I hope that Draco accepts then," said Neville.

"How do you think he'll take to attending a Muggle dance," asked Harry nervously. His throat began to ache again. "You don't think that he'll balk at the news do you?"

"No mate," said Neville. "He's been a lot nicer, staying out of your way and all this year. Why you haven't had even one serious argument this term at all with one another."

..:..

Draco's POV

Draco sat across the courtyard from Harry and his friends though he could not see them from his vantage point so he could not possibly know this.

He was sitting amiably chatting with his mates when Potter's owl came flying towards him. Her white plumage gave her owner's identity away.

"What do you suppose Potter wants with me?"

"I don't know," said Pansy. "Maybe he's written you a love letter."

"Nah, I don't think that he has the nerve," said Blaise. "You only just apologized to him the other day."

"You never know," said Draco hopefully. He had finally admitted to himself that yes he did indeed have a thing for Potter.

Draco untied the twine that held the letter and read its contents.

"He's invited me to a Muggle dance. That's not really my scene, but perhaps I should go. After all, dressing up like a Muggle is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I don't think that he'd extend another offer like this again really."

"But what will Narcissa say," asked Blaise.

"Narcissa can get over it. I apologized to Potter and intend to accept this offer as a show of good faith that I'm willing to except new ideas. Besides, whilst this does require me to stay in the same room as the Muggles, nothing requires me to talk to them now does it?"

Draco got out his supplies and wrote a short note to Harry accepting the invitation and inquiring if it was alright for him to discuss this with Severus so that they could take a trip to get them costumes sometime this weekend.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry threw up his arms in celebration.

"Yes, he accepted my invitation. It's a date. He's going to talk to Professor Snape and see if he can take us to a Muggle area to get costumes," said Harry, his voice growing horse again.

"And why would the professor do this exactly," asked Neville.

"Because Professor Snape is Draco's godfather. Perhaps I can get the professor to also take me to get some Muggle and wizarding clothing. I'll also ask him tonight after my treatment."

"Why has your voice been horse today? You don't think that you've caught a cold do you? The treatment can cause a compromised immune system just like the Muggle chemo can't it," asked Hermione.

"It's the radiotherapy, or at least that's what my radiotherapy nurse thinks. She told me to rest my voice, but I'm in a really good mood now and feel like talking."

"Why don't you use your wand to write into the air like you told me that Riddle's memory did," asked Hermione.

"I suppose I can do it," said Harry. "Let me give it a try."

'Hello.'

"It worked," said Hermione happily. "If you don't want to do this all of the time, then please do it some of the time. You don't want to damage your vocal cords do you?"

'No. Thanks Mione. You're a lifesaver.'

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry made his way to the common room of sorts in the Muggle hospital. He found his friends sitting around the telly watching a movie.

"You here for treatment," asked Adam.

"Yeah. I just wanted to stop in and see what you lot have been up to," said Harry hoarsely. He longed to be able to write his answers in the air but since they were Muggles he had to talk.

"Good luck Harry," said Adam.

"Do you have that partner for the dance that we talked about the other day," asked Adam with a grin.

"Yeah, they accepted my invitation today."

"What's her name," asked Ashley.

"His name is Draco."

"ooooooooo," said Ashley excited. "Is he hot?"

"I certainly think so," said Harry smiling.

"Are you two dating then," asked Michael whose hair was beginning to fall out.

"Not as of yet. We're going as friends, but hopefully it will turn into more."

"I reckon you'd best be off if you're going to make it to your radiotherapy appointment then," said Ashley.

"Thanks for keeping up with the time for me then. How did you know the time of my appointment?"

"Since you said that you haven't gone yet, six is the last appointment for radiotherapy during the evening."

"You lot seem to know a lot about how this hospital works, do you have your own spy network or something," asked Harry teasingly.

"All of us girls keep up with the latest gossip and stuff whilst the boys keep up with the ins and outs of the hospital then we share our info with one another."

"Neat. I'll see you lot later."

A few minutes later found Harry laying down yet again for his fourth session of radiotherapy.

"How are you feeling Mr. Potter?"

"I have a sore throat. My oncologist said that the radiation can cause the hoarseness, is that true?"

"Yes. You can try gargling salt water, drinking hot herbal tea, or drinking some warm water mixed with lemon juice with honey several times a day to help soothe it."

"I'll give that a try," said Harry.

"What's your birthday," asked the nurse.

"The 31st of July 1980. Why do you lot always ask this before doing something medically to me?"

"It's standard procedure."

"Oh okay."

"We'll get started then."

The radiology nurse left before flipping the switch.

Harry lay still as the machine moved back and forth over the target area.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry sat atop the bed in Severus's private office yet again awaiting his potions master.

'Is healer Robertson coming too,' asked Harry of Severus as his potions master entered the room.

"No. He brought over the bag of anti-amidic. He had something else to do. He said that he will try and come sit with you once a week during your treatments. Is that alright? He's a busy man, and sends his regrets that he can't be here tonight."

'Okay,' wrote Harry with his wand.

"Why are you not speaking? Is something the matter?"

'my throat is irritated from the radiation and it has been recommended to me that I rest my voice when this happens.'

"Alright. Let's get started then."

'Wait sir, I've got a question.'

"What is it?"

'Draco and I are going to a dance next Thursday at seven and I was wondering if you could take us shopping for what we need as well as take me shopping for some proper robes and clothes this weekend.'

"Draco already asked me about the costumes and I told him yes. But if you ever tell anyone about me doing this for you then I'll take points."

Severus went over to the workstation and put the purple potion into a beaker before coming over to Harry.

He gave Harry an alcohol pad to wipe off his preferred finger for cutting, then he extended the digit to Severus who held the knife. The potions master made a nick on Harry's right middle finger. The blood dropped into the Celmosphocide. Harry watched as the potion went from purple to a deep red color.

Professor Snape accessed Harry's port, flushing it with saline, then he used the special syringe to administer the Celmosphocide.

Harry cringed as his chest felt warm when the Celmosphocide went into his body.

Harry braced himself on the bed as a wave of dizziness washed over him.

"Are you alright their Harry," asked Severus.

'I got a bit dizzy their. It's pretty common nowadays sir.'

"Alright. I'll proceed by hooking up the anti-amidic, then I'll administer the chemotherapy. And after that, you're free to go."

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry was happy, no happy wasn't a positive enough word for what he was feeling. He felt…elated. For now was Friday morning and he had only one more radiotherapy and chemotherapy session to go before his first cycle of treatment was done.

He made his way to his transfiguration class, where they set about practicing switching spells. During this practical application of transfiguration, Harry noticed with a grin that his spells seemed more powerful than normal. Yes having a more powerful magical performance was a possible side-effect of his Celmosphocide, he hadn't really expected for it to manifest so soon though.

"Woe their mate," said Ron. "Your spells are really powerful today. Do you reckon that it's the treatment causing this?"

'Yes,' wrote Harry.

"You're doing so well, casting nonverbally and everything," said Hermione.

'I don't want my spells to come out all wonky if my throat won't allow me to pronounce the spells correctly y'know.'

Harry stayed back at the end of his transfiguration class to hand the professor a note explaining why he had responded nonverbally during class. The professor had said that she'd let the Headmaster know about this new accommodation so that all of his professors would know about it. This way, they could plan accordingly.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry made his way back to the portkey dropoff point to return back to Hogwarts after his radiotherapy session. It had taken longer than usual this evening, since he also had to meet with his care team to discuss how he was handling his treatment so far.

He said the password then with a jerk behind his navel, he was whisked away and back to the Hogwarts gates. Hagrid let him in as usual. Harry felt bad for coming up with an excuse for his first friend as to his whereabouts, but he wasn't ready to tell him. For he knew that the groundskeeper would take the news particularly hard.

Harry remembered on Monday night having to cast a Patronus to send a message to Hagrid letting him know that he was at the Hogwarts gates and needed to be let back in the castle. The wards on Hogwarts had been tightened because of a need for added security due to Lord Voldemort's higher terrorism risk.

He had been grateful that Tonks had told him about Patroni also being able to carry messages otherwise, he didn't know when he would've been let in during that first night.

"How are yer doin' Harry?"

'Fine,' wrote Harry.

"Wha's been wrong wit' yer voice lately?"

Harry changed his mind at the very last minute and decided to tell the COMC instructor the truth. He couldn't let him find out with the rest of the school. He deserved better than that.

'Can we go to your cabin sir? I've got something rather serious to tell you.'

Once they made their way inside the hut, Hagrid put a kettle of tea on and came to sit beside Harry on the couch. They talked about inconsequential stuff until the tea was done.

Hagrid went to get two large cups of tea. He handed Harry his cup. Harry was grateful as it would soothe his sore throat. Harry proceeded to tell a shocked Hagrid about what all had been really going on with him this term. To say that the groundskeeper took it hard was an understatement.

He had read Harry's responses with a grief-stricken look on his face as Harry explained about the good cells and the bad cells and his chances. He told Hagrid about having to take Muggle and wizarding treatments to combat the disease. Once Hagrid had gotten the gest of what was going on, he went to get something of a stronger variety to drink all of his troubles away.

After Harry made sure that Hagrid was okay to be left alone for the night, Harry left the warm cabin behind and stepped into the chilly fall night.

..:..

Severus's POV

"Icemice," said Severus to the gargoyle in front of the Headmaster's office.

The gargoyle moved aside and Severus strode up the spiraling staircase.

"Enter," came the wizened voice of the Headmaster.

Severus opened the door. He had a lot on his mind these days, what with Potter's health, the potions that Severus had to brew and administer to the boy, the experimental potions work for the Headmaster as well as his duties as spy and Head of Slytherin. This all meant that the potions master had practically no time for anything else in his schedule. But he had promised Harry and Draco that he would take them shopping, so he would keep his word. He had to let the Headmaster know about the trip for their safety though.

"Good evening Severus," said Albus as Severus entered the circular office. "Would you like a lemon shibert?"

"No, you know that I don't care for them."

"How is your hand doing," inquired Severus.

"It's stiff but the curse doesn't as of yet show signs of spreading. How is your experimental potions brewing going? You know that I'll make do if you can't come up with a cure my boy."

"Yes, but we need you here with us as long as possible to fight this war," said Severus. With Albus alone, he could be honest and show his emotions. After all, the Headmaster had vouched for him during his spot of trouble with the Ministry during the first war.

"What do you need," asked Albus.

"I wanted to let you know that I will be taking Harry and Draco shopping this weekend to buy some things."

"Are you sure that you can afford to take Harry? What will you tell Lord Voldemort if he asks you why you're caring for Harry in that capacity?"

"I'll tell him that I'm doing it on your orders of course," said Severus with a sneer.

"You cheeky little…"

"I suppose that I cannot dissuade you from your plan then?"

"No. You know of my fondness for Draco. He's really looking forward to this."

"Alright. Stay safe then. Will you need an Order gard?"

"No. If we take precaussions like that then the Dark Lord might grow suspicious."

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry walked over to the workstation and stared at the cauldron of his Celmosphocide. The purple potion looked so harmless right now in it's current state. Yet he knew that it would help stop his magic from hiding his cancer. That way the chemotherapy could better fight it. Thus it was far from harmless once activated by his magical signature. None of this made him feel better about his current predicament. He still felt rotten from the radiotherapy and he knew that he'd be feeling even worse after the MCDI and the chemo were given to him.

A burdgening of hope alit in his chest at the thought that this would be it for the week. Just one more chemotherapy treatment taken in a hour would conclude his treatments until Monday. He wished that he didn't still have to get the Celmosphocide during the weekends though.

Harry jumped as the door opened admitting Professor Snape.

"What are you doing over their by the workstation? I hope that you haven't ruined the potion with your meddling Potter. If you have, so help me…"

'I haven't touched anything. I was just looking and contemplating things.'

"Come sit down over here and we can get started then."

Harry went over to the bed and lay down.

Severus got the right volume of potion into the beaker then carefully walked over with it. He set the beaker down on a table beside the bed and pricked Harry's chosen finger with the knife. He dropped the blood into the mixture and watched carefully for it to turn red. After this occurred, Severus got the port ready, flushed it and then administered the Celmosphocide.

He Hooked up the line to the port so that the anti-amedic could flow into Harry's body then started the drip.

"Would you like to listen to the wireless again this evening or read something?"

'The wireless.'

Harry waited as Severus went to retrieve the wireless.

He must've dozed off for a bit, because when he next became aware of his surroundings, his chemotherapy was dripping into his veins.

"Are you awake Harry," asked Severus not unkindly.

'Yeh. I reckon I got in a good kip. Is the potion almost done then sir?'

"Yes. You were sleeping, so I didn't want to wake you. I decided to just continue doing my job and started the potion. Are you in any pain?"

'Some body pain.'

"That's a new development, but an expected one. Let either myself or Madame Pomfrey know if it gets too bad and we can contact the healer. He had instructed us to contact him if this happened and the pain was unbearable. He told me that he would start you on a daily dose of morphine if your pain levels were too high."

'I don't want to take narcotics unless I have to sir.'

"I know that, but we can handle the situation. Either Poppy or myself would give you the pills only if you really need them. And you would take them four times a day every day."

'What would happen if I got addicted?'

"It's a misconception that cancer patients are drug addicts. You lot are ill thus you may need the same drugs that some people abuse just to tolerate your treatment. This does not make you weak Harry. And after your treatment is through, we would slowly wean you off of all unnecessary drugs. So what I'm trying to say is keep us informed about your pain levels and of any signs and symptoms you face so that we can better help you."

'Okay.'

"What number from one to ten is your body pain right now?"

'A three sir.'

"hmmm," said Severus hissing through his teeth. "I'll let Madame Pomfrey know this so that she can look after you tonight. If she needs too, she will contact your oncologist and we can start the morphine tonight. If not, we'll reassess you next Monday for your pain levels. I'm sure that you already went over this during your consultation this evening at the Muggle hospital."

Harry raised his wand to write then said, 'Yeah we did. I just don't want to sound like a complainer that's all.'

..:..

A/N: I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter. I worked really hard on it. I have trouble moving time along, so I was pleased that I concluded one week of Hogwarts education this chapter.

I did my best to keep Harry's discussions normal. What I mean is that I sometimes said that Harry said when he wrote this, that's because it just sounds better that way. When I talk about myself being blind that's how I do things, so I figured that Harry'd do the same thing.

Recommended fanfiction of the chapter: Book 1: Harry Potter and the Choices that Matter by adeadlife44.


	15. Chapter 15: A Busy Weekend

Diagnosis

A/N: Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews. So I had a quick question for all of you. Do you like me adding in other's POV's occasionally or would you prefer the story to be told only from Harry's POV. Note: the heart of this story lays firmly with Harry regardless.

I moved the disappearances of Ollivander and the icecream shop guy back a bit, that is to say that they disappeared somewhere after the teens visited Diagon Alley over the summer and before now. Hope this isn't to confusing.

'written by Harry'

"spoken aloud"

/Parseltoungue/

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling makes more money per year than I could ever hope to earn.

Chapter 15: A Busy Weekend

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry awoke on Saturday morning and stretched. His back popped with an audible crack. Whilst he hadn't slept much last night due to all of the vomiting, once he did fall asleep, his sleeping cycle had been uninterrupted by his nausea.

Harry let out a yawn, still tired. He was not sure if his exhaustion even after waking up was a symptom of his brain tumor or a side-effect of his treatments, but nevertheless, he decided to lay back down for a bit.

He set an alarm spell with his wand after casting a quick Tempus to check the time. It was only seven zero five. Yep, he was definitely getting some more shuteye before scampering off to breakfast. He had a busy day planned, thus he was going to need all of the extra rest he could get.

He awoke a second time at eight A.M. when his alarm spell went off.

He drug his tired and still sore body out of bed, brushed his teeth, got dressed, got his medications ready for the day, and went down to breakfast.

He averted his eyes from the spectacle that Ron and Lavender were making snogging at the Gryffindor breakfast table no less.

'Good morning Hermione,' wrote Harry after he got his wand out of his robe pocket to write. 'Have a good night's rest?'

"Yes. Are you feeling alright this morning?"

'Still a bit sore after my treatment last night,' said Harry. 'But they tell me that it's just yet another of those pesky side-effects that I'll have to deal with. If the body pain gets worse next week, then they're going to put me on morphine tablets.'

"Okay. I hope that it doesn't come to that."

'Me too.'

"So do you have any plans for the day Harry?"

'I have remedial potions lessons this evening.'

"With whom?"

'Severus.'

"Since when did you start calling him Severus?"

'Just the other day. He gave me permission to do so the other day. We're spending a lot of time together each night, moving past the formalities of student and teacher kind of come with the package.'

Harry paused their conversation to look up at the staff table. He was curious how Hagrid was faring after last night. He hadn't wanted to tell him in part because of how bad he knew the half-giant would take the news. He saw a very hungover Hagrid with red-rimmed eyes sitting at the staff table.

Hermione growing curious as to what Harry was doing looking at the staff so closely asked, "Who are you looking for?"

'I'm not looking for anyone, I told Hagrid last night about my illness and I was checking to see how he has taken the news. He looks as if he's been crying.'

"Yeah. It's hard, hearing how sick you are Harry. It can really be a shock to hear such news you know. We're scared that we might lose you to be completely honest with you."

'I'm going to fight this with all of my being.'

"I know, but it could still happen. I'm not trying to frighten you but more like explain why Hagrid and us took things the way we did when you told us."

'Thanks Mione. I guess I wasn't thinking of it from your perspective. For me, having cancer is just a part of my life now and is not really that big of a deal to me, that's all.'

Harry and Hermione's conversation was interrupted when Professor Snape came up to their table.

"Potter?"

'Yes sir.'

"Meet Draco and I in the entrance hall at eleven. Come dressed for the chilly autumn weather, as we're going to be outside for some of the day."

'Okay. Thank you for taking me.'

"It's no problem," said Severus.

Once Severus Snape left the Gryffindor table, Harry and Hermione began to chat as Harry put a small helping of food on his plate. Every mealtime he made a habit of tasting some of his favorite foods. He made sure to stick to his diet when doing so. He did this because he didn't want to miss out on the pleasure of good tasting food. Just because he felt to nauscious to eat most days didn't mean that he couldn't have a small sample of some things without throwing up hopefully.

Harry took his medications before eating to make sure that the nausea drug got into his system before he ate. So far, this had stopped him from losing his breakfast.

He always waited a few minutes before either taking the nutrient potion or eating which ever one struck his fancy for that meal. He wanted to give the anti-amidic time to work.

"Where are you three going," asked Hermione.

'Shopping.'

"Do you know what costume you are planning to get?"

'I think that I'll pick something simple and be a skeleton or a ghost.'

"That sounds nice. Do you know what Draco'll be?"

'No. I haven't talked to him since he sent me the response.'

"Why don't you go and spend some time getting to know him better?"

'Okay.'

Once Harry had finished eating, he went bravely up to the Slytherin table and tapped Draco on the shoulder.

The Slytherin table went silent with Harry's approach. Clearly everyone wanted to know exactly why the-boy-who-lived was at their table this fine morning.

Draco turned around saying, "Yes Potter?"

'I wanted to know if you would like to spend some time together before we go.'

"So Severus told you when we're leaving today did he?"

'Yes.'

"Why are you not talking?"

'I've got a sore throat.'

"Okay. Let's go then," said Draco getting up from the Slytherin table.

"Draco's got a boyfriend. Draco's got a boyfriend," sang Pansy in a singsong voice.

"Shut it you. Harry and I are not dating."

"Yet," she said. "So he's Harry now is he?"

"Yes as of a matter a fact he is. Is that a problem?"

"Not really. I like you as a mate, but don't want to marry you. I'd rather see our arranged marriage get annulled to be honest. I hope I didn't hurt your feelings by saying that."

"Not in the slightest. I'm into blokes. I don't see how Lucius could've missed that one when drawing up the paperwork, but he did."

..:..

Draco's POV

Draco and Harry left the great hall together. Draco talked with Harry as if they had been best mates all along. They chatted about inconsequential things until they reached an unused classroom. Draco opened the door and held it open for Harry.

As Harry entered the classroom he sneezed at the fine layer of dust that covered the furniture.

Not wanting his companion to be uncomfortable with the current atmosphere of the room, Draco vanished all of the dust before sitting in a desk chair.

"Make yourself comfortable," said Draco patting a chair beside his in invitation. "So tell me more about this party that I'm to be attending then."

'It's complicated,' said Harry getting up the courage to tell yet another friend about his cancer. 'In order for me to explain everything, I'm going to need a magical vow to be taken by you.'

"How can some Halloween dance require such secrecy," asked Draco skeptically.

'It's not the dance per say that must remain secret but how I got invited to the dance in the first place.'

..:..

Harry's POV

'I want you to swear on your blood and magic that you will not reveal anything about this conversation to anyone without my permission.'

"Okay. I can only hope that you won't tell me that you're planning world domination or something then," said Draco half joking and half out of nervousness as to why Harry needed all of the secrecy all of the sudden. Harry saw Draco's face change from skepticism as to Harry's true motives concerning the oath and half curiosity. He could see the moment that Draco decided to stand behind him and to take the oath. Harry watched on coolly as Draco took his wand in hand and swore the oath. "I Draco Malfoy do swear on my blood and magic, that I will not reveal anything that Harry Potter tells me about this dance and it's secrecy to anyone without his permission, so mote it be."

A white light enveloped Draco as he concluded the oath.

'Thank you. Do you remember that day that you saw me crying in the hospital wing…'

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry and Draco made their way in tandem to the entrance hall. It was time to meet Professor Snape. Harry took a moment to reflect upon his and Draco's conversation about his cancer. Overall, Draco had taken the news well. He had shown signs of sadness and apprehension that someone his own age could very well be dying once Harry had taken the time to explain what cancer was and what this diagnosis would mean for his life. He had then proceeded to tell him about Neville's cousin, the fact that he would be undergoing treatment, and his new group of Muggle mates. Draco had been surprisingly quiet throughout, giving Harry the time he needed to tell his story. He also with some reluctance confided in the blond about how Severus and a healer were the primary one's giving him his magical treatment. Draco had been quick to reassure Harry that Severus was one of the best potion's masters around and that if he had taken on Harry's case personally that his chances would be better than if someone else had been the one to brew the dangerous drafts.

After Harry had told Draco everything and then allowed him to say what he needed to say, their conversation gradually turned from the deadly serious subject matter of earlier into a more lighthearted one. They had talked about everything under the sun, going from mere acquaintances to fast friends as the morning went on.

"Harry snap out of your daydreaming, Severus is here," said Draco excitedly.

"Are you gentlemen ready to go?"

"Yes," chorused the two boys. Harry had spoken aloud this time, afraid that if he didn't use his voice occasionally that it would stop working altogether.

Severus pushed open the wooden double doors and they began to make their way towards the Hogwarts gates.

"Where are we going to go first," asked Draco.

"We're going to go to Gringotts in Diagon Alley first. Since you both need some Muggle currency, Gringotts is the logical first stop. You'll also need to go to your vaults to get some wizarding gold if I'm not mistaken."

"Not me," said Draco proudly. "I had a bag of gold in my trunk for this term and that's what I will use if that's alright with you."

"I must warn you two not to venture into Knockturn Alley. If I catch either of you, especially you Draco, doing that, then you'll find yourself in detention with me, is that understood?"

'Yes.'

"But they have really wicked books and artifacts in Borgin and Burkes," whined Draco.

"Draco, agree to these terms or don't go."

"Alllllrrright," sighed Draco.

Harry hid a grin behind his hand at Draco's antics.

"Mum'll just take me their over the Winter hols anyway you know," muttered Draco.

"Well that's her prerogative not mine," said Severus. "Need I remind you two that Albus has sanctioned this trip, so we can't get up to anything nefarious is that understood Draco?"

Draco huffed but continued walking towards the Hogwarts gates nevertheless.

Once they reached the gates, Severus opened them by tapping his wand on the lock and unlocking it with a nonverbal spell.

"Hold onto my arms you two," said Severus. Harry stood for a moment wondering how Severus could side-along appearate two people instead of just one. He reasoned that Severus must be really powerful to be able to do such a feat. He wondered why he hadn't done this with Neville and himself the other day. Perhaps their potions master had been afraid that Neville would mess things up if he revealed this to him somehow. Harry refrained from mentioning that though.

With a crack, they found themselves outside the entrance to the alley. Severus tapped his wand on the bricks in the right pattern to gain entrance to the alley and Harry watched as a hole grew where previously bricks had been.

They walked along the cobblestone road making their way towards the large white marble building that was Gringotts bank. Along the way, they passed various shops and stalls where venders were trying to sell new protective amulets. Harry had a sinking suspicion that Mr. Weasley had encountered some of these so-called protective amulets in the line of work, for he worked for the Missuse of Muggle artifacts office. The venders used Muggle jewelry and cast protective magic on it, or at least that was Harry's perception of what was going on around him.

The alley was surprisingly empty. Harry realized that most of the Hogwarts traffic was in school at this time of the year, but in his mind, he didn't account for enough of the regular traffic this time of year. They encountered very few witches and wizards on their journey to Gringotts.

The trio walked up the steps to the bank and entered the doors, passing between two goblins that were guarding the doors to the bank. Draco made his way to a teller to exchange some of his wizarding galleons into Muggle pounds. Harry and Severus made their way to another teller's station, where Harry had to show his key and they had to give their reason for visiting, to withdraw money from his trust vault. Harry and Severus made their way towards one of the carts, after Severus had warned Draco one last time about not wondering off.

Harry got into the cart that was manned by a male goblin. The potions master got in behind him.

" Vault number?"

"Vault number 687," said Severus looking to Harry for conformation.

"Hold on," said the goblin.

Harry raised his hands into the air in ecstasy as the cart raced down the tracks. The cart went up hills and down into deep valleys, around treacherous turns and over bridges. Harry swore that he even saw a dragon along the way. All to soon, the ride came to an abrupt halt.

Severus looked a bit peaky.

Severus got out to allow Harry to clamber out behind him. The potions master got back into the cart and waited for Harry to collect his gold. The goblin handed Harry a bottomless moneybag with a drawstring to collect his money in. Harry walked into the vault and scooped up a lot of golden galleons, some silver Sickles and a handful of bronze Knuts into his moneybag. It held way more than it appeared to from the outside and only weighed about twenty-five ounces.

He put it into his pocket and then climbed back into the cart.

"Can you take it a bit slower on the ride back," asked Severus still looking a bit green.

"One speed only," said the goblin with a toothy grin.

The cart shot off speeding around the track. Harry held his hands aloft as if he were on some amusement ride instead of a Gringotts cart.

When the cart had reached the surface, Harry, Severus, and the goblin got out of it. Harry swayed on his feet. Apparently whilst he loved the ride, his brain tumor did not feel the same way. To make matters worse, his eyes watered as they adjusted to the light shining in his face after enduring the darkness of moments ago.

"Harry are you alright," asked Severus steadying his charge with a hand.

'I will be,' wrote Harry into the air in front of him. 'Maybe I oughta avoid these carts and the like until I'm cancer free eh?'

"Maybe."

Harry thanked the goblin for his service then Harry and Severus made their way towards Draco who was tapping his foot impatiently.

"What took you two?"

"We didn't take a long time Draco," said Severus.

"Well it certainly seemed too," said Draco.

"Go over their to that teller and exchange some of your money for pounds," said Severus to Harry.

Harry did as he was told, but found that he didn't like the current exchange rate that the goblin gave him. He was not in the mood to deal with goblin politics or in the mood to barter for a cheaper rate so he gave in and took the offered pounds and put them in his moneybag.

Harry, Draco and Severus made their way out of the marble lobby and into Diagon Alley proper.

"Where to first," asked Severus, deciding to make today's trip about meeting the boy's needs and wants only and not in fact his own. He wanted this day to be about allowing his Godson and Harry to enjoy their time spent together. Harry needed some time to be carefree after the hellish week he had just endured.

"Can we go to Flourish and Blotts," asked Draco.

"Is that alright with you Harry," asked Severus looking over his shoulder for Harry's written response.

'Yes. I was hoping to pick up a few books while we were here if that's alright with you lot.'

"Of course," said Draco. "I'd rather pick any light reading up from Knockturn, but I suppose that Flourish and Blotts will do."

"Then why did you ask to visit this establishment if you don't really want to go their," asked Severus.

"Because any bookstore beats none."

They walked until they reached the bookstore. Severus opened the door and held it for the two teens.

"What kind of books are you looking for," asked Draco.

'Anything on Defense, transfiguration and charms will do,' said Harry.

"Would you like to visit the backroom as well?"

'What's this mysterious backroom,' inquired a curious Harry.

"You had better not," said Severus. "Be planning to take him to the backroom Draco. I told you that we weren't to get any Dark books while we were here."

"I wasn't talking about dark material, they more have gray books here anyways. In Slytherin we bring books like that to Hogwarts all of the time and don't get caught, so why can't Harry?"

"Because Minerva has a more strict view on what kind of magic is practiced whilst in her house that's why."

'Whilst I know that I can't beat Lord Voldemort with light magic alone, I'd like to exhaust my research on light magic before straying to gray and dark magic if it's alright with you. It's a slippery slope to learning how to block dark magic and gray magic to casting it. I'll consider going to this backroom where I assume that Mr. Blotts handles some of the more obscure purchases until I've gained a firmer understanding of dark and gray magic first.'

"So you're not one of those Gryffindors who automatically assumes that light magic is holey and anything else is pure evil then," asked Draco with a hopeful expression on his face.

'No.'

"Is their anything that I can help you with gentlemen," asked a sells lady.

"No ma'am. We're just browsing," said Severus.

Draco and Harry eventually made their way to the counter with a stack of books each. Harry had picked up a variety of transfiguration, charms and defense books like he had told Draco he would. Draco had gotten ancient runes and arithmency texts.

'I didn't know that you're taking those two subjects.'

"I'm not, but I have decided to do some self-study in those two electives and perhaps get an OWL in both over the summer."

"That's very good," approved Severus. "What about a NEWT?"

"If I do well enough, I might consider doing that," said Draco with a smile. "Harry would you mind swapping some of my pounds for galleons so that I can purchase these books? I forgot to a lot for any purchases by keeping some wizarding money and now I feel rather foolish for it."

'Yes,' said Harry reaching into his moneybag and exchanging the pounds that Draco had handed him into the wizarding equivalent.

After the boys had payed for their books, the sells lady had shrunk their books and they had left the establishment, they went to a shop and bought Harry a wand holster. They decided to go to the pet shop next as Harry was interested in getting a snake familiar. Harry had no plans of ditching Hedwig, but he had always wanted a snake familiar and wanted to cross this off of his list.

"Did you know that it isn't strictly forbidden for you to have a snake as a familiar according to our second year Hogwarts letters," asked Draco. "I mean that only first years are the only ones allowed just a cat, owl or toad."

"You mean that it doesn't strictly warn against it to anyone second year and above and yes, as a Hogwarts staff member, I do know of this particular loophole."

The trio made their way into the pet shop. Cats wound their way around their ankles, owls hooted overhead and snakes hissed in tanks in the back of the store.

Harry made his way to a tank that housed several snakes and hissed a /Hello./ to them.

/Hello young human. You're a speaker?/

/Yes,/ said Harry his voice a bit hoarse.

/What is your name?/

/Harry. Would you like to become my pet familiar,/ asked Harry to the snake that had taken to talking to him.

/Yes. My name is Brian./

/Nice to meet you Brian. Would you like to ride on my arm until I can purchase you a tank with a warming rock to lay on?/

/That will be more than adequate,/ said the snake in parseltoungue.

"That's so neat, parseltoungue I mean," said Draco.

The trio made their way to the counter to purchase Harry's new familiar and all of the necessities. Along with that, he also bought some owl treats for Hedwig. He didn't want her to feel left out by not getting her something too.

"What's that you got their young man," asked the store owner.

"It's a young male snake sir," said Harry hoarsely. "He seems to like me."

"Indeed? He's a constrictor not a venomous snake, do you still want him?"

"Yes sir. Can I get him a tank and a warming rock too?"

"Of course. Your new pet and all of his necessities plus the owl treats will come up to ten galleons and five Sickles."

Harry reached into his moneybag and thought of the amount he needed. A small bag with the allotted amount hit his hand just like it had in the bookstore and the shop where he had bought the wand holster. He drew the right amount out and handed it over to the storekeeper.

Severus called on Spot who took the snake, the owl treats and the tank back to Hogwarts into Harry's dorm room where he put the snake into the tank atop of the warming rock for Severus. Before Severus had handed the tank with the snake in it to Spot, he cast a notice-me-not charm on it so that the snake could have time to adjust to it's new habitat before being swarmed with Gryffindors until Harry got back that evening.

They made their way to the robes shop where Harry tried on dozens of robes, trousers and shirts with wizarding logos and sayings on them. He had to endure a lecture from Draco about the proper robes that were to be worn at the proper times. Harry also bought some dragon hide boots. In addition to that, he bought a warm green winter cloak that Draco swore matched his eyes.

After Harry's moneybag was a considerable amount lighter, Harry and the two others made their way into London. They went to several high-end department stores where Harry bought long-sleeved button up shirts, t-shirts with popular sayings, jeans, more trousers, several nice looking jumpers, a winter coat, pajamas, undergarments and socks. They next went into a trainer store where he purchased an expensive looking pair of trainers.

Outside of their last stop, a local costume shop, Draco turned to Harry and asked, "What was that thing sticking out of your chest a bit?"

"It was my port, what they use to give me my medications."

"Oh, did it hurt to have that thing put inside of you?"

"Yes a bit, but Madame Pomfrey healed up the stiches and made the recovery process loads easier by doing so."

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry sat down on his bed up in his dormitory room exhausted from their long shopping spree. After he had taken a breather, Harry unloaded all of his purchases, deciding to take some of them to his makeshift room in the hospital wing after his chemotherapy on Monday. He wanted to have access to equal amounts of his Muggle and wizarding new wardrobe no matter where he was. Ron had came up to their dorm followed by an excited Neville. They all spent a lot of time just hanging out, celebrating the fact that Harry's first round of chemotherapy was over. Harry had been asked to model his new clothes and he obliged. He changed into some of his casual Muggle attire to wear for the rest of the day. He asked Ron to go and find Ginny and Hermione so that he could show them something.

After all of his Gryffindor mates had come up to the sixth year boy's dorm, Harry canceled the notice-me-not charm and his friends gasped when a tank with a small snake lay on his bedside table.

"Where did you get that," asked Hermione.

'From the Magical Menagerie.'

"Professor Snape let you go their? I thought that you lot were only buying clothes and costumes," said Hermione stunned.

'Yes. He's really kind of likable once you get past his gruff exterior.'

"What else did you get besides the snake and your clothing," asked Neville curiously.

'We got books from Flourish and Blotts. I also got a wand holster.'

"Oh okay," said Ron. "The robes and stuff that Harry got were really nice too Mione. You should really take a look at them."

The next fifteen minutes were spent showing off his new stuff to his fellow Gryffindor mates. Though he did not model the robes and clothes for the girls deciding that to do so would be highly inappropriate.

After that, Neville and Ginny spent time ogling the snake and quizzing Harry about his new familiar. Harry indulged those two and got the snake out of the tank. Brian protested at being taken out into the chilly air and being handled he told Harry to put him back on his warm rock but Harry eventually talked the snake into some admiration.

After they had gotten their fill of handling Brian, Harry had told them about Ollivanders and Fortescues being closed.

"Do you reckon that they came to any harm," asked Ron.

"Yes. Voldemort could have many reasons for kidnapping Ollivander. Their aren't many wandmakers out their after all," said Hermione. "Unfortunate about the icecream shop being closed too. Do you reckon that this development happened after we went to Diagon Alley this summer?"

'Yes.'

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry awoke with a start at his alarm spell. Apparently it was dinnertime. He had decided to take a nap after the girls had left. His oncologist had stressed for Harry to rest where and whenever he could so that his body would have more energy to fight his disease. He wondered if Neville and Ron thought him lazy for kipping during the weekend but refrained from asking them.

He made his way into the common room where he met up with his four friends. They ate an amiable dinner together. Well that is to say that Ron, Neville, Hermione and Ginny ate their fill but Harry could only manage a small portion, which is more than he managed for breakfast. His appetite seemed to grow more of a need for food as the chemotherapy left his system.

He took his prednisone and the anti-convolsant after he finished eating, since the prednisone needed to be taken with food.

Lavender came into the great hall and thus commandeered Ron's undivided attention. He stopped eating and scooted over for his girlfriend to sit beside him. Hermione glared at the duo.

Harry looked up at the staff table to see both how Hagrid was fairing and if Albus Dumbledore was in attendance. The Headmaster frequently missed meals of late and whilst the man had begun to explain things to Harry about what he was doing, Harry still wondered what was so important to pull the Headmaster away from his duties of his post as Headmaster. Hagrid though looked much better, it was as if he had begun to process the news that Harry had told him and he had begun to process the fact that Lily and James son had cancer.

Harry continued his conversation with Hermione and Ginny as he sipped on his pumpkin juice. He used his wand to write the words with his right hand and drank with the left. He was relieved to be able to stop talking now that he wasn't in Muggle London.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry sat across the desk from Professor Snape awaiting his Occlumency training. They were like last year in Severus Snape's teaching office, not to be mistaken with the one that Harry takes his chemotherapy in in his quarters.

'Sir, are you going to attack my mind like you did last year?'

"Yes but first I need you to organize your memories and shore up any defenses that you may have in place. Once you're ready we'll begin."

About fifteen minutes later, Harry gave the potions master a nod signifying his readiness.

"You may use your wand to aid in your defense. One, two, three. Legilimens!"

Harry tried to hold the potions master off, but his defenses were quickly pushed aside by the powerful Legilimens. Memories flashed in front of Harry's eyes. He was five years old and cooking breakfast for his family, he was eight and being chased up a tree by his Aunt Marge's dog, he was ten years old and cowering in fear of his Uncle in his cupboard…

Harry came back to his senses as the potions master broke off eye contact. Harry was shaking from the strain that he had been under during the attack of his mind a few minutes ago.

"Potter why do you think that I broke into your mind so easily?"

'My defenses aren't strong enough?'

"In part yes, but it's also because I'm a master Legilimens. Again."

Thirty minutes later found an exhausted Harry Potter and Severus Snape sitting across from one another in his office.

"Here, have some water," offered the potions master conjuring a goblet of cool water. "Your throat may be a bit sorer than usual since you were screaming during the Occlumency practice."

Another fifteen minutes later found the two men in Severus's private office. For it was time for Harry's MCDI to be administered. Harry had been surprised at how much faster the Occlumency training had speed the time up that usually consisted of Harry's radiotherapy sessions.

Harry couldn't decide which he hated more, radiation or Occlumency.

Severus brought over the beaker of purple potion and a knife. He had Harry cleanse off his preferred digit then cut a small knick into Harry's finger. He dripped the blood into the concoction and it turned a bright red color. He healed Harry's finger.

Severus accessed the boy's port, then he flushed it with saline. He hooked up a special syringe and injected the MCDI.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry and Hermione sat beside the fire in their favorite armchairs on Sunday morning. They were just enjoying each other's company. Harry had gotten the best night's sleep last night that he had had in a week. He decided that his weekends would be a little slice of heaven between his chemo cycles.

"Do you want to have a look at that book that Professor McGonagall gave us for our extra credit project," asked Hermione excitedly.

'Yes.'

Hermione pulled out a slim volume that read: Unlocking the Inneranimal by Laurie Switch.

She scooted her armchair right beside Harry's. /Hello Brian,/ hissed Harry to his familiar. /How nice to see you this morning./

/Master may I go hunting for little mice? I am hungry./

/Do you think that you will be able to find your way back to me and will you be safe hunting?/

/I can find you with your scent alone master. As for the predators, remember I'm a constrictor. Whilst I can't kill a cat, rodents aren't any trouble./

Harry unwrapped his new friend from around his arm and took him over to the portrait hole opening it before placing him on the ground.

He made his way back to the two armchairs and cast the Muffliato charm before they began reading.

The first section of the book gave a brief description of the animagus process and summarized the process. After that was a list of potions ingredients that one would need to complete the first step of the process, determining what your inneranimal is. One would do this by brewing the potion. Harry took note that it would take a month to brew the potion. Hermione closed the book after bookmarking their place.

"Have you tried shortening and lengthening your hair yet Harry?"

'Yes, but I'm afraid that if I do it too much that my hair might start falling out sooner rather than later,' wrote Harry taking care to write as small as possible in order to keep their conversation away from prying eyes.

"Well how about you do it for me just one time so that I know that you've got this part down before we move on to brewing the potion."

Harry scrunched his eyes and concentrated for a moment and after a while, his hair grew down to his shoulders. He wondered momentarily if it looked anything like Sirius's long hair had before he had died.

'How does it look Mione?'

"Good Harry. If you could, would you ever consider growing it out? I think that the look would certainly catch a certain Slytherin's eye. Maybe you can after you're done with your chemotherapy and radiation."

'Maybe,' wrote Harry with a melancholy look crossing his face.

"Now change it back."

Harry scrunched his face up yet again in concentration. In moments it was back to his messy hairstyle.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry sat in Severus's private office awaiting the potions master to give him his MCDI. Harry was nervous because tomorrow night would begin his second cycle of chemo.

"Hand," said Severus curtly.

Harry extended his right hand and awaited the sharp sting of the knife cut. He dripped the blood into it turning the potion from a purple color to a bright red color. Severus healed the cut with a quick incantation.

He accessed Harry's port, flushed it with saline and then attached the full syringe, pushing the warm liquid into the port.

Harry thought that he would never get used to the way things felt when they were put into his port. It was a weird sort of feeling.

Harry was brought out of his musings as Severus looked at his left upper arm. "I see that you have brought your snake along with you. How is he adjusting to life here at Hogwarts?"

'Fine sir. He's even been hunting this morning. He's asleep as his body is busy digesting the rodent he caught.'

"You don't think that it was someone's pet do you?"

'No we went over that last night. Hogwarts wards have a spell put into them to prevent such anyways. At least that's what Hogwarts a History says according to Hermione.'

Severus bandaged Harry's port again to keep it clean.

"I just wanted to make sure. See you tomorrow evening. Get some rest."

..:..

A/N: I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. Does anyone know of any constrictors that I could use as a name for the species of snake that Brian is? If no one comes up with one, I'll just make one up.

Recommended fics of the chapter: the slash one is, "Other Half of my Soul" by lovetoomanyfanfics1. The other one is "Salazar's Heir: Year 1 by RinneganSage.


	16. Chapter 16: The Dance

Diagnosis

A/N: I hope that everyone is enjoying this fic so far. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I hope to have this out before thanks giving, but if not, it'll be out shortly after the holidays.

'written by Harry'

"spoken aloud"

/Parseltoungue/

Disclaimer: I only own Harry Potter in my dreams. I also want to recognize another cancer fic where the chemotherapy kills the horcrux. I am using this idea here.

Chapter 16: The Dance

..:..

On Monday around noon, the trio found themselves sitting at the Gryffindor table in the great hall eating lunch and chatting amongst themselves.

"So what costume did Draco get," asked a curious Ron.

'I don't know, he wouldn't show me. We both were trying them on in two side-by-side fitting rooms but he insisted upon just showing his to Severus and keeping it a secret from me until Thursday.'

"Then what will you be then," asked Hermione with a smile at her best friend.

'I chose to be Dracula.'

"Ooooooohhhhhhh, sounds spooky. Draco's going to love it."

"Who's Dracula," asked Ron out of curiosity.

The next few minutes consisted of a conversation where Harry and Hermione told Ron and Neville who was sitting close enough to be intrigued by the details about Dracula.

"So I was thinking, you know how sometimes we have conversations after your special lessons that are classified," asked Hermione.

'Yes.'

"Well it wouldn't remain private if you wrote into the air like this," said Hermione worrying that her friend would be angry with her for bashing his accommodation to the spoken word.

'So you're wanting me to find another way of communicating that can remain private?'

"If possible."

'Well I guess I wasn't thinking when we read the book on Sunday then now was I? Anyone could've read what I wrote with my wand if they were nosy enough.'

"Don't worry to much their mate," said Ron. "I've thought of something, just use the standard parchment and quill to write what you want to say."

Harry felt kind of silly for not thinking of this on his own.

'Good solution, but I'll start using a pen and a pad of paper instead, then we can burn the piece of paper, and no one can read what we've written.'

"But I suspect that their will still be times where you need to use your voice or this spell still," said Neville. "Like in class."

'Yeah.'

"What's paper," asked Ron. "And a pen for that matter?"

"It's a muggle thing," said Hermione. "I think I have a pad of paper and a pen with my school stuff that I sometimes use for jotting spare things down in, you can have it for your personal use. You need it more than me," said Hermione.

'Thanks. I'll pop into a Muggle store and purchase some more supplies tonight after my radiotherapy so that we can start making this a thing.'

"But you won't have any teacher supervision," protested Hermione.

'Madame Pomfrey wrote me a pass to do these kind of things for whenever I need or want to do something like this. It'll be fine, trust me. I'll remain vigilant and alert to my surroundings.'

"Okay, just be careful."

Harry decided that now that he had had an entertaining dose of conversation that he should take his prednisone now and try a bite or two of food, so he did just that.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry sat down in his afternoon lesson and waited for the instructor to arrive. Ron and Hermione were bickering again about his exploits with Miss Brown so they weren't sitting with Harry for this class.

"Is this seat taken," asked Draco Malfoy.

'It's available.'

"How are you doing," asked Draco.

'I feel really great. I haven't had to undergo my treatment yet, so I feel like I'm on top of the world.'

"That's great."

'Can I ask you a bit of a personal question?'

"Yes."

'I read the other day before transfiguration that your father was released from Azkaban, so do you know if he's rejoined Voldemort?'

"One can only assume that he has but is keeping up appearances that his nose is clean now that he's been pardoned."

'Thanks for letting me know.'

"I don't care what Lucius thinks about my life. I won't let his opinions mar my new friendship with you."

'That means a lot.'

Their conversation was interrupted when their Professor entered the room and began class.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry lay down on the bed in Severus's private office that the man had conjured for his use during his chemotherapy treatments. It was rather comfortable. He was perfectly relaxed. He lay their calmly as the chemotherapy dripped into his body.

"How was your day Mr. Potter," asked his healer.

'Good. My friends and I decided that I'll start using pen and paper to talk with them instead of this spell so that our conversations can remain more private.'

"You know that you still possess the ability to talk right?"

'Yes, but the radiotherapy has made my voice rather scratchy sounding.'

"That can sometimes happen. Also the chemotherapy draft can cause the same affect."

'Great, I thought that I'd only have to endure six weeks of this.'

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry was miserable. Whilst his treatment a few hours ago only involved him throwing up once during his treatment, he wasn't so lucky now. He sat hunched over a bucket puking up his guts. His whole body ached.

"Are you alright Harry," asked a concerned Madame Pomfrey coming into his makeshift room.

"No," rasped Harry. "My body pain is really bad and I can't stop retching."

"Just take it easy Harry," said Poppy rubbing Harry's back comfortingly.

She swept his bangs back and noticed that his scar was red.

"Does your scar hurt?"

Harry nodded.

"Have you had any visions?"

Harry shook his head.

The matron left Harry's bedside to grab a wet flannel for his forehead.

"Here," she said handing Harry the flannel. "Hold this on your forehead. It'll help you feel better after the retching and it'll cool your forehead and hopefully take the burning out of your scar."

Harry let out a sigh of relief as he pressed the cool compress against his forehead.

"Take a sip of water to rinse your mouth and sit back and relax. Try not to think about throwing up and relax your breathing. I'm right here."

The nausea slowed and eventually ebbed away.

"Here, take another sip of water to rinse your mouth again. Trust me, it helps."

Harry did as she instructed, trusting her implicitly.

"Feeling any better?"

"I'm not feeling nauscious anymore, but every night the nausea lasts for a different period of time, maybe it's through for tonight," whispered Harry looking utterly exhausted.

"Have you gotten any sleep tonight?"

Harry shook his head.

"Then tonight is a bad night for you. With cancer, one has bad days and good days. It's something that you'll learn how to detect in time, that is if you're having a bad day or a good day."

Harry listened to her attentively. Still not feeling safe enough to put the bucket back on the bedside table. The matron used a cleaning and freshening charm on the bucket. This made Harry feel better now that he had cleaner air to breathe.

"How bad is the body pain?"

"About a five."

"I think that we should start you on the morphine now that the body pain has returned. I'll talk to your healer and see what he has to say and be back in a few."

'But he's asleep. Don't wake him. I'll be fine,' wrote Harry.

"No. You don't have to suffer like that when we can do something about it."

Harry lay back on the white bedsheets after placing the trusty bucket back on the bedside table. He placed his spectacles back on the table too and closed his eyes. He was in to much pain and to nauscious to sleep for now, but that didn't stop him from resting.

"Healer Robertson told me that we're going to start you on the morphine tonight. You will take this pill four times a day," said the healer holding out a white square pill with the letter m on it. "It'll take care of most of the pain hopefully. If you have breakthrough pain, let us know. He also gave me a bottle of filgrastim for you to take. It's to help you keep up your white blood cell count. He forgot to give you it earlier. You are to take this every night."

'What's breakthrough pain And why didn't he start me on the filgrastim at the beginning?'

"Pain that is not controlled with your new pain regimen. He wanted to see how you tolerated the chemo first. You're already on so much medication that to add another drug when we didn't know if you'd tolerate the chemotherapy draft would be foolish. You could've also had to undergo muggle chemotherapy instead. We just weren't sure what to do as your case is a unique one given your age. But now that you're approaching the time period where your ANC will start to drop it's important to start it now. That's what your oncologist said anyways."

'Will I still have headaches?'

"Hopefully not as frequently now that we're going to begin this course of pain control. If you do, then you still are to take the migraine potion that I'll continue to order for you as needed."

'Don't I get it from Severus?'

"No. He does brew the MCDI and the chemotherapy draft, but this potion could be obtained from another brewer and I already ask so much of Severus brewing wise that when I can give him a reprieve from brewing I do so."

'Okay.'

Harry reached out for the tablets and swallowed them with a goblet of water that Madame Pomfrey had poured for him.

The matron left so that Harry could rest. She was not sure if her patient wished to sleep or not, but she knew from experience that he probably wanted some time alone right now more than her company so she left.

Harry lay their waiting for the pain pill to take effect. He felt as if his body were on fire right now, and he wanted the relief promised to him to bloody hurry up already and work. He also wondered if the new pill would start working on his cells immediately or more slowly. He knew that he really didn't understand much about his CBC yet so he put aside the worries about possibly missing treatment for low blood cell counts.

Much to the boy's relief, his nausea and pain finally abated and he was able to fall asleep for the rest of the night.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry sat at the breakfast table contemplating how his day would play out now that he had begun his additional medication. He was wary of taking such a strong and well-known pain killer for any length of time but was reassured by his healer that this didn't make him a drug addict. He wrote a quick hello to Hermione and Neville and showed it to them.

He next took his prednisone, the seizure medication the nausea drug and the morphine tablet before eating a small breakfast.

With a lot of effort, he did not throw up his breakfast. He really longed to just go to the nearest loo and throw up, but he knew that he desperately needed the nutrition from the food he had eaten and the benefits of his morning meds so he refrained from doing so.

"Are you alright," asked a concerned Hermione. "You don't look so good."

'I had a bad night,' wrote Harry on the notepad before scooting it across the table for them to read. Once they both had read the message, Harry took it back and continued. 'My body pain got worse so they put me on morphine. They're pretty confident that it will help me with the pain. They also put me on this drug called filgrastim. It's supposed to prevent neutrosidapedia. Also my scar got red last night.'

"Do you think that Voldemort is up to something?"

'No Neville. I didn't sense anything from him like flashes of emotions or thoughts. It just does that sometimes. It's a cursed scar after all. It's prone to acting up like that at times.'

"Did you finish your charms homework last night," asked Hermione who felt bad about asking Harry about something as trivial as homework assignments at a time like this.

Harry nodded.

'I always do my homework before or during my treatments so that I don't have that problem. Don't want to show up to class without my essay this morning now do I?'

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry sat at a workstation in potions class.

He turned to Hermione and wrote on the stationary paper, 'Would you mind being my partner for potions class today? Professor Snape has set me new rules for my health that I only stir the day's potions until I get my blood drawn to check my cell count. I've reached the part in my chemotherapy cycle where it could drop.'

Hermione nodded with a smile. His brewing partner would be Hermione Granger. He had decided to pair with her because he knew that she would be happy to help him with the dicing, slicing, and chopping of the ingredients today. He knew that she wouldn't judge him a slacker if all he did in today's class was stir the potion when indicated.

Severus had forbid him from doing anything else in potions from now on and warned him that if his cell counts dropped too low that he'd have to wear a bubblehead charm during the class to keep out any germs. He was glad that he didn't have to do that or quit the practical work yet. Both scenarios had been told to him the night before by Severus and his healer. He knew that if his ANC dropped too low that potions could raise a serious risk to his health. So too could Herbology.

He wasn't allowed to do any of the hands-on work in Professor Sprouts class anymore either. They were going to draw his blood to check his cell counts on Friday. Then he would have the final verdict as to whether he could continue the practical work in potions and Herbology. This too would determine if he would be able to undergo his chemotherapy draft at the usual dose and for the usual number of days a week. He hated chemo but knew that it was of vital importance for his treatments to take place. Harry really hoped that it wouldn't be to low yet. Healer Robertson had also begun him on filgrastim to prevent his CBC from dropping to low last night. So he vowed to take his filgrastim as directed by his healer.

Severus strode into the dungeons potions lab with his black robes billowing behind him.

"Today we will be brewing the Skel-grow draft. The two person team who brews the best potion will gain ten points to their house/houses. The instructions are on the blackboard. Ingredients can be found in the storeroom. You may begin."

..:..

Harry's POV

"So concerning your chemotherapy draft and the MCDI, on Thursday, you are still planning on attending the dance with Mr. Malfoy are you not," asked Severus.

Harry nodded.

"Then we will start your Celmosphocide and Todesgefahr on Thursday evening at nine instead of the usual eight. Is that alright with you?"

Harry smiled and wrote on the notepad, 'Alright. I'm really looking forward to getting to know Draco better.'

"He's a very well-mannered boy. Just give him time to get to know you better. You'll like him; he's a very loyal friend."

'I started using the pad of paper to write when not in class as to keep my conversations more private. Do you think that this way of communicating is a more secure one?'

Harry handed the pad with the written message to Severus again.

He looked down at it before replying, "Yes I do. However their will be times during your treatment that you have to either use the spell or talk aloud if I am busy preparing your potions or delivering them to you. It's time that I begin your Todesgefahr."

Harry watched on as Professor Snape took the empty bag of the nausea drug off of the IV pole and replaced it with the bag of Todesgefahr.

"Since you're taking my godson to a muggle dance, I take it you fancy him?"

Harry blushed.

He wrote with the pen, 'Yes sir I do. However, I'm not sure he feels the same way about me.'

"I have talked to him and given what he said and how he's been friendly stalking you, I dare say he does like you."

'He's given that up, now that he knows about exactly what's ailing me sir. He was only curious as to what was wrong with me after my collapse in potions class. That'd leave anyone curious,' wrote Harry defending Draco.

"I heard from your healer that you started a drug to help boost your cell count, how's it working?"

'I only started last night. They also started me on morphine to help with the body pain.'

"Yes. He did mention that."

Harry lay back, deciding to rest for the rest of his chemotherapy draft.

About halfway through the Todesgefahr dosage, Harry's scar began to turn red again.

Harry rubbed at it.

He sat up and got the pad of paper and the pen before writing, 'Does this potion cause cursed scars to become irritated?'

"I'm not sure, as you're the only one in history to have survived the Killing Curse. Do you want me to ask Dumbledore?"

'No sir.'

Harry still felt some ill will towards the man and did not want to let him in on any peculiarities concerning his cancer treatments.

Harry could tell that the morphine that he had taken with his dinner was helping tone the scar pain down from a 10 to a 2 so he was grateful for this bit of reprieve.

Harry was grateful that he only threw up once during his treatment that night.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry awoke to an alarm that he had set for later that evening to take his two medications. Before he took them, a bout of nausea hit him. As usual, he threw up all of the contents of his stomach. He waited for the symptoms of his Todesgefahr to pass, then wiped his mouth before gargling a freshening mouthwash draft and spitting it into the bucket. He then drank a few sips of water. After he found that he could keep that down, he took the two new pills before allowing sleep to take him once more.

..:..

Harry's POV

The next morning during their break between classes, Harry and his friends sat in the courtyard talking excitedly about the Quidditch match that was to take place this Saturday between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"Do you reckon we have a chance of winning now that you're not the seeker," asked Hermione morosely.

'Yes. Ginny is a better seeker than a chaser I think. And I didn't know that you cared so much about Quidditch,' wrote Harry on the notepad before handing it to Hermione.

"I usually don't, but I can find it in my heart to care about what's important to all of my mates can't I," said Hermione defensively.

"Yeah, I overheard Katie talking to the team and she seemed to believe that our chasers can work together pretty good now that they've had time to train Ginny's replacement," said Neville.

'I'm glad. Wish I were allowed to play,' wrote Harry in big letters so that all of his friends could read it from where they were sitting.

"Yeah, me too," said Ron. "I also agree with Neville. The new girl chaser is doing good in practice, I still worry though. Draco's pretty good at catching the snitch."

"So you mentioned that Dumbledore is going to tell the school about your cancer this weekend, don't you think that we should share it with the DA before they find out with the rest of the school," asked Hermione, glad to be talking about something else than her sudden concern for Quidditch.

'Yes. How about today after classes are over,' wrote Harry.

"You're the leader not me," said Hermione.

'Yes but you're the reason that we started up the club in the first place and the brains behind the group,' wrote Harry before handing the notebook to Hermione.

"That sounds like a good time for me," said Neville.

"What do you think Ron," asked Hermione.

"Sounds good, but why do I get a feeling that this is going to be a depressing meeting?"

'Because it is. I reckon their will be lots of tears and denial from the group,' wrote Harry showing it to his friends.

'Who wants to be the one to lead the meeting tonight,' wrote Harry.

"I will," said Hermione.

'Very well then, here's how we're going to do it,' wrote Harry, explaining about the wizarding oath that he wished for them all to take.

"That'll take to long, how about another enchanted parchment," said Hermione. "It certainly did a number on Marietta Edgecombe when she betrayed us last year."

'Alright. Dumbledore was also going to make the rest of the school take an oath on Saturday at my insistence, should I suggest the parchment idea to him?'

"Yes," said Hermione after reading what Harry wrote.

Harry set the date and time on his galleon, which would show up on everyone else's galleon today's date and the timing for the club meeting. They would warm up in the pockets of the members, thus alerting them to the meeting.

The small amount of their fifteen minute break that was left found Harry chatting with Brian. He had been kept warm by staying wrapped around Harry's arm surrounded by Harry's new cardigan that kept the worst of the autumn chill away from his familiar.

..:..

Harry's POV

That night's DA meeting had been hard on everyone. Hermione had explained what cancer was to the group and briefly explained about the specifics of Harry's brain tumor. She left the explanation of his treatment up to Harry. He wrote about the Todesgefahr and the Celmosphocide in the air for all to see. He then wrote about the muggle radiation and the possibility of surgery to the group, explaining that if the tumor had shrank enough after the conclusion of the radiotherapy that the surgeons would remove as much of the tumor as possible, and how this would increase his chances for survival.

Many students burst into tears, whilst others looked to be in shock. After all questions were answered, including why Harry was writing instead of speaking, Harry called on Dobby to get the club some hot chocolate to help combat the shock. Dobby enlisted the rest of the Hogwarts elves to help.

Hermione strongly encouraged everyone to sign the secrecy parchment with a quill before Harry dismissed everyone, promising to hold a proper meeting in a week or two.

After the meeting was over, and the last of the students had made their way back to the dorms, Harry, Ron, Neville, Ginny and Luna left the great hall.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry walked from his radiotherapy session to the oncology level where he found several of his friends chatting about tomorrow's Halloween dance.

"What are you going to be," asked Adam to Brook.

"I'm going to be a princess."

"And you Elisa," asked Adam.

"A witch of course," she said with a smile. Elisa and the younger children were sitting at a nearby table drawing whilst the older teens were sitting in a group chatting.

"Oh Harry, how are you," asked Brook.

"The treatment is taking a lot out of me. I feel tired amongst other symptoms," rasped Harry.

"We know how you feel," said Ashley. "We're going through the same thing. Anytime you need to talk, just come to the level and chat with any of us."

Harry went over to Elisa and told her about his date from school, making sure that the girl wouldn't bring up something about the wizarding world tomorrow evening.

"So are you going to the dance Elisa," asked Harry.

"No the younger kids are going tricker treating," said Elisa. "I'm going to be a witch, what about you and your friend?"

"I don't know what he's going to be yet, he said that he wants to keep it a surprise. But I'm going to be Dracula."

"Wicked," said Neville's cousin.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry sat on the bed in Severus's private office waiting to undergo yet another round of the chemotherapy draft. He never looked forward to this as the nausea amongst other symptoms was exhausting, but he knew that he had to suffer through it.

"Good evening Mr. Potter," said Severus carrying a beeker of the MCDI over to the boy. "Are you ready to begin?"

Harry nodded.

Harry sat their with a finger extended, Severus used a new device to prick it, explaining to Harry that his oncologist had recommended getting a lancing device from a muggle drug store which was usually used to prick one's finger for blood sugar testing. This hurt but far less than actually cutting the finger as they had been doing.

Severus squeezed the fingertip to get the appropriate amount of blood into the potion. It turned from a purple color into the usual bright red.

Severus injected it into the port.

A wave of dizziness came upon Harry and he fell backwards from a sitting position to laying down on the bed.

"Are you alright their Harry?"

'Not really. I've been feeling dizzy since my radiotherapy session this evening. My nurse told me that poor coordination and dizziness can be caused by the treatment,' wrote Harry with his wand into the air.

"Just lay their for the evening's treatment then," said Severus, beginning to administer the anti-amidic.

Much to Severus's annoyance, the MCDI made Harry unusually giddy throughout the treatment. This grated on Severus's nerves but he refrained from commenting as he knew that this was just a side-effect of the Celmosphocide and Harry truly couldn't help it.

Not even vomiting or his scar growing inflamed could interfere with the boy's excessive happiness.

..:..

Harry's POV

The next morning, Harry held back tears as he got up from the hospital wing bed. He found a few hairs on his pillow. His hair was beginning to fall out. He picked it up and disposed of it in a nearby waste bin.

He reluctantly grabbed his brush and ran it through his hair, a clump of it fell out onto the bed. He too swept it off and threw it away.

Madame Pomfrey came into the room, "Are you alright Harry? You look as if something is bothering you."

'It's just that I've started losing my hair. I'm going to a dance with Draco tonight and why it had to start coming out today of all days I'll never know,' wrote Harry in the air.

"Oh Harry," said Poppy. "Come over here."

The matron gave Harry a hug. A few tears leaked out of his eyes. He was not ready for this. He usually wasn't so vane, but he worried that people would see him differently with no hair.

"Do you want me to just get rid of it for you, you know like ripping off a bandage," asked Poppy. "Or do you want to allow it to fall out naturally?"

'I suppose that it's best to go ahead and lop it off. It'd look hideous if I let it fall out in clumps.'

"Are you sure dear? There's no going back on it once we do this."

Harry nodded firmly.

"Okay dear."

Madame Pomfrey cast a balding jinx at Harry.

She vanished the hair that had fallen off.

"Did you get any hats during your shopping trip last Saturday?"

'Yes. I've got a red one, a blue one, and a black one.'

"Let's see the blue one," said the matron.

Harry went over to the dresser and opened the top droar and pulled it out.

"Try it on for me dear."

Harry did so.

The matron smiled.

"You look good Harry. I think that Draco'll love it."

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry stood in the entrance hall at six fifty. He had went to his radiotherapy session a bit early so that he could fetch Draco before the dance began.

Harry did not have to wait long until Draco came in his direction.

Harry let out a whistle as Draco approached. The young Malfoy looked good. His hair was impeccable as usual and Draco was dressed in a ghost costume.

"You look good," croaked Harry.

"As do you. What are you?"

'Dracula,' wrote Harry in the air.

"Okay."

Draco figured that Dracula was some Muggle themed character so he didn't probe any further.

'Let's go,' wrote Harry taking hold of Draco's hand.

Once they reached the gates Draco asked, "How are we going to get their?"

'I have a portkey attached to my wrist. Take ahold of it,' wrote Harry after making the bracelet visible.

Draco did so and they felt a jerk behind the navel before landing at the Muggle hospital.

Harry waited for a bout of dizziness to pass before getting up off of the ground. Draco extended a hand to help Harry up. Draco had fallen also, but got up before his companion did.

"Are you alright Harry," asked Draco.

Harry was leaning on Draco for support.

"Yes. It's just a side-effect of my cancer and the consequential treatment. It'll pass."

"Why are you talking instead of writing?"

"Because we're about to enter an area filled with Muggles."

"Oh," said Draco. "I should've thought of that."

"I have a muggle pad of paper that I can write on, but it's hard to write while standing up," said Harry hoarsely. "Let's go."

Draco and Harry made their way up to the oncology floor where the dance was to take place. On the way, Draco had squeezed Harry's hand in fright as the electrical doors had opened seemingly by themselves. Harry explained the process of electricity and macanics to Draco.

They entered the common room for the cancer children and Harry was surprised at how decorative it looked. The staff had obviously gone all out to decorate the place. Cobwebs hung on the windows, pumpkins sat on a table that was set up with refreshments. The ceiling was decorated as well. The lights were dim to add to the spooky atmosphere. A scare crow sat in a corner. Harry also saw several fake spiders on the walls.

"Why do most of the others have no hair," asked Draco. "Is this a Muggle Halloween thing?"

"No. They like me are undergoing treatment that causes your hair to fall out. Haven't you noticed my blue hat this evening?"

"Yes. I thought that it was part of your costume until now."

"No. Madame Pomfrey erm, cut it off this morning as it had begun to fall out. I didn't want to look ridiculous with several bald spots waiting for it to all fall out when it could be taken care of in one go."

"Okay. Can I feel your head?"

"Um, sure but why?"

"I've always wondered what it would feel like to have a completely bald scalp. Forgive me if this is rude."

"Not at all, you're just curious."

Harry let Draco feel his head.

"It's smoothe and sort of soft."

Harry reached up to have a feel and found that his friend was right.

He put his cap back on and asked Draco if he'd like to meet his muggle friends.

Draco reluctantly agreed. It was hard for him to adjust to mingling with people whom he had been raised to hate, but he knew that this was part of Harry's life and that if he wanted to be a part of it, then he was going to have to learn to except such things.

So Harry proceeded to introduce Draco to his muggle mates.

Draco was surprisingly polite. Perhaps Draco really had changed after all.

After a while, Draco went up and grabbed himself and Harry some refreshments.

Music played in the background.

Harry and Draco avoided jibes from his mates about them being a couple. Did Draco's attendance with Harry make them boyfriends?

"Want to dance," asked Harry bravely.

"Sure," said Draco, taking Harry by the hand and accompanying him to the dance floor.

When a slow song came on, Harry pulled Draco close.

At the end of the song, Harry kissed Draco softly on the lips.

Draco kissed tentatively back.

They were broken out of the moment when a fast song came on. They both got into the new rhythm and continued dancing.

"So how was your first kiss by the famous Harry Potter," asked Harry hoarsely at the end of the next song.

"Not bad," said Draco.

..:..

Draco's POV

Later that evening, Draco sat atop his bed and talked with his friends about the dance.

"So how was it," asked Blaise. "Did Harry like your costume? I was shocked when you chose to dress like a muggle ghost instead of a wizarding one for one."

"He loved it. And the dance was fabulous."

"What's going to happen if Lucius finds out about this," asked Pansy. "I don't want you to have to face Lucius's wrath."

"Narcissa will protect me. While Lucius was in Azkaban, she's been arranging things so that she can leave Lucius."

"That's good. That way you won't have to take the mark on Christmas like Lucius had been urging you to do. Where will you go?"

"Narcissa has used some gold that she's saved up to buy us a house. According to her, it isn't a manor or anything but she thinks that it'll do for just the two of us."

"How will you be protected from your father then?"

"She's made the house unplottable and plans to cast the fidelius charm to hide the house from death eaters."

"Good."

Draco smiled in remembrance of his first kiss with Harry.

"Guess what you lot?"

"What Draco," asked Millicent.

"Harry kissed me."

"How was it?"

"Excellent."

"Are you two dating?"

"I guess you could call it that," said Draco. Draco cracked a yawn. "I'm tired. You girls get lost so us boys can change and go to bed."

..:..

Harry's POV

While Draco sat with his friends in his dorm room, Harry sat atop the bed in Severus's private office awaiting his potions.

"Hey Harry," said Severus. "What did you think of Draco's costume?"

'It was great, but his company was better.'

"How did he handle meeting muggles?"

'Surprisingly well,' wrote Harry on the paper before showing it to Severus.

'We shared our first kiss this evening.'

"Was it suitably romantic," asked Severus.

Harry nodded.

Severus accessed the port then injected the potion after getting the proper amount of blood from Harry's finger.

Harry relaxed as the red potion entered his body.

Severus flushed the port with saline then hooked up the tubing and hung the nausea drug onto the infusion pump.

Severus turned the wireless on as Harry closed his eyes. He had had a long day, and the radiotherapy made him tired and his head hurt. The pain killer helped but did not entirely abort the pain.

"Are you ready to watch the game on Saturday?"

'Yes,' wrote Harry.

"We're going to crush Gryffindor. Who replaced you as seeker?"

'No you're not. Ginny. She's pretty good. Remember in my fifth year when she won the Quidditch match. She's going to do that again. Draco's no match for her. Plus we've got a decent replacement chaser.'

"Thanks for the heads up, I'll be sure to let my house know."

'You wouldn't dare.'

"Oh yes I would."

Recognizing the bored look that crossed Harry's face, Severus said, "You might want to bring something to read if you get bored during these sessions, I know that the process can become tedious waiting for this process to be over."

'I don't mind just sitting here and listening to music. I find it soothing and relaxing.'

"I could read to you occasionally."

'That would be great. What kind of books do you have?'

"Do you like wizarding fantasy novels?"

'I have never read any.'

"Then we ought to remedy that," said Severus. "I'll go get one from my personal library and be back to start your Todesgefahr. We can begin to read this evening."

Harry mused that he only wasn't as interested in the music tonight since he had been listening to it for the past two hours at hospital.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry sat at the lunch table on Friday with his friends. He had told them about going bald and they had found it a good thing that Harry had chosen to face this preemptively with Madame Pomfrey rather than waiting for all of it to fall out. Either way, they would've supported their friend but it meant a lot to them that Harry was acknowledging what was going to happen to his body and excepting it as fact.

A first year Ravenclaw came over to Harry with a note:

Dear Harry:

Come to my office this evening at seven. The password is Mars bars.

APWBD

Harry crumpled up the parchment with the slanted writing and put it in his pocket to dispose of later.

"You got another lesson with Dumbledore," whispered Ron to Harry.

'Yes,' wrote Harry. 'But that's going to cut offly close to my chemotherapy time. I'll have to talk to Severus about it.'

As it turned out, Severus had agreed to move back the chemotherapy session by thirty minutes which allowed Harry to attend the lesson. During the lesson, Dumbledore had taken Harry into a memory that contained Tom Riddle's eleven year old self. Harry had found it disturbing that Riddle had at so young of an age began to bully his victims and steal from them. Taking trophies to remember the crime by was of particular worry to Harry.

"Severus came to me concerning a matter about your chemotherapy draft the other night," said Dumbledore.

A flash of rage could be found on Harry's face.

'He told you.'

"Yes dear boy. He didn't want to betray you, but something like this is deeply disturbing. The fact that your scar is being affected by the potions means that these lessons are of greater importance than I had previously thought."

'How could this be related to Voldemort? Severus and I have detected no presence of Voldemort when my scar burns.'

"I know. This suggests that the origin of your scar is being attacked by the potion. I'll explain more in time. This is a good thing."

'That reminds me, I told the DA about my cancer on Wednesday,' wrote Harry in the air.

"Okay. So are you ready for me to tell the rest of the school on Saturday after dinner?"

'I suppose. Hermione and I used a parchment to bind them to secrecy. Can you do the same for the school? You see it'd take a lot of time to bind that many students using a wizard's oath.'

"If that's alright with you then it's alright with me. I'll cast the enchantments on the parchment."

The rest of the lesson was spent teaching Harry the levicorpus jinx and the counter-jinx liberacorpus. Given Harry's sore throat, he elected to learn it nonverbally. He cast the jinx on a dummy that the headmaster had for him to practice on. After much effort, Harry succeeded with the levicorpus and then the counter-jinx. After that, he was free to go. He had a bone to pick with Severus Snape.

..:..

Severus's POV

Professor Snape made his way through the chilly corridors to his quarters. Once arriving, he used the password to gain entry.

He walked over to the workstation in his office and checked that everything was ready for Harry's Celmosphocide and Todesgefahr treatment. Seeing that everything was in order, he sat down in a chair that was beside the bed and waited for Harry.

Harry stormed into the private office and demanded in a scratchy voice, "Why did you go to the Headmaster about this?"

"Because I couldn't let you suffer needlessly. I needed to confirm a theory of mine."

'And what's that?'

"The headmaster thinks that you're a horcrux," said Severus. Dumbledore had been adamant that Severus not share this with Harry but he knew that Harry would be hurt if he kept it from him.

'What's a horcrux?'

"A container for one's soul."

'How did I become one?'

"The night that Riddle killed your parents, he transferred a part of his soul into you."

'How are we going to destroy this shard of soul?'

"Hopefully the chemotherapy draft will do that for us."

'How can it do so?'

"The Todesgefahr is a skilled poison containing basalisk venom and basalisk fangs. Basalisk venom is one of a few ways to defeat a horcrux."

'Okay.'

'How are horcruxes created?'

"By murder. Committing a murder splits one's soul."

'Let's begin then,' wrote Harry.

..:..

Harry's POV

How could it be? Did that make him evil too? Then it hit him. 'The diary. I killed Riddle with a basalisk fang. Was it a horcrux too?'

"Perhaps. I see that Albus has of yet to tell you about horcruxes in these lessons."

'He told me this evening about how Riddle liked to collect trophies from his victims, so perhaps he will. Perhaps I'll speed the lessons along next time by telling him that I've figured it out.'

"Very good idea."

'I think that what he's leading up to is that the horcrux or horcruxes were created by specific murders and that they're trophies parts of his collection if you will.'

Severus took Harry's hand and turned it over waiting for Harry to pick a finger to be pricked.

Harry allowed the potions master to prick his finger with the lance and drop the blood into the potion, turning it from a purple color into a red color.

He administered the Celmosphocide, then he administered the nausea drug. After doing that, he hooked up the Todesgefahr.

He drew blood from Harry's arm to check his CBC while they waited for the chemo to start ravaging his body.

This time, Harry screamed in pain as it coursed through his body. He vomited relentlessly clutching his forehead in pain.

Severus eventually cast a stunning spell on Harry.

He watched on in horror as Harry's scar burst open.

..:..

A/N: I do apologize for not having this out sooner. I hope that you liked Harry and Draco's first kiss. I wanted to let you all know of a community that I've created. It contains all of the decently written sequels I've read or am still reading about Harry Potter from Harry's POV. Hopefully it will be of use to some of you. No fics will be recommended at this time since the community is large enough to hopefully entertain you for a long time. You can find the community on my profile.

The reason that Harry starts the new drug is to boost his cell counts. Really he should've been put on it in the beginning in preparation for his chemo, but I didn't find out about it until I did more research about chemo. Harry's now in the critical part of his chemo where one's cell counts can drop, leaving him open for infection.


	17. Chapter 17: Parseltongue

Diagnosis

A/N: I hope you all have a happy Christmas if you celebrate it and a happy holiday season if you don't, as I probably won't update again until after the holiday season is over.

'written by Harry'

"spoken aloud"

/parseltoungue/

Chapter 17: Parseltoungue

Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to be that good of a writer, I'm not JKR by any stretch of the imagination.

Last time:

Harry's scar burst open.

..:..

Severus's POV

Severus watched on in morbid fascination as Harry Potter's famous lightning bolt scar burst open and black ooze came out. He let the remnants of Riddle's horcrux evaporate until the scar bled red and not black. He held a flannel in place over the boy's scar to stanch the bleeding.

He was glad that he had stunned the boy because he probably would've been in a lot of pain as the taint left his soul and body behind.

Severus recalled that night a few months ago when Albus had called him to his office for medical attention. Albus had confided in Severus at the time that Harry might be a horcrux and thus would consequently have to die in order for the Dark Lord to be vanquished for good. If what Severus had suspected had indeed just happened, then Albus was indeed incorrect and the Todesgefahr could be listed as another way to defeat a living horcrux.

Much to Severus's regret, his potions brewing for Albus was not going as well as that of Harry Potter. He would have to continue to work on a stopgap for the curse in Albus's hand. The curse had to be halted for a time if Albus was going to continue to train the boy.

"Spot."

Spot popped into the room and answered his master's call. "Severus be needing Spot?"

"Yes. Come over here and hold this cloth in place so that I can go and retrieve a cream for Mr. Potter's scar. The wound will need dressing if it is going to heal properly."

"Yes sir."

Severus made his way to his private lab and got the needed materials to dress the scar. The bandages would need to be changed twice a day until the wound healed.

"Thank you for your help Spot, you may go now."

Severus removed the flannel and smeared a liberal amount of salve onto the opened wound and then put a plaster in place over the scar.

..:..

Severus's POV

The potions master made his way to the Headmaster's office after carrying Potter to Madame Pomfrey's hospital wing. He knew that whilst Harry would no doubt scowl when he found out that Severus had told Albus about the horcrux thing, he knew that the Headmaster as the leader of the light must be informed of such pertinent information.

"Cockroach clusters," muttered Severus.

When Severus reached the top of the spiraling staircase, he used the Griffin shaped knocker to announce his presence.

"Come in my boy," said Albus.

Severus scowled; he was not anyone's boy, not any more. Especially after how manipulative the man had been of late. Of course, he kept his face blank of all emotion and opened the door.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts sat behind the wooden desk reading over some parchments in front of him.

"What brings you to my office this fine evening?"

"Business not pleasure I'm afraid," said Severus.

"What is wrong?"

"Must something always be wrong for me to visit you," lied the potions master faking affection for a man that he was no longer sure he felt the same feelings of before towards.

"As you know, Mr. Potter has begun his Todesgefahr and Celmosphocide cancer treatments two weeks ago."

"Yes I'm indeed aware of that. How is he fairing?"

"Better now that he's unconscious."

"Unconscious?"

"I had to stun him as the chemotherapy draft attacked his scar. Your fears were indeed right Albus, he was a horcrux."

"Was? How could such a treatment defeat something as nefarious as a horcrux?"

"It has basalisk venom amongst other poisons in it. It's in fact a very potent potion. The point is that the boy is no longer a horcrux and I made him aware of the fact that there are more than likely horcruxes still out their."

"But we haven't covered that yet in our lessons."

"I had suspected that the Todesgefahr would have an affect like this when his scar began to redden over a period of several days during his treatments and the boy has grown dare I say it a bit fond of me so I felt I owed this explanation to the boy. Fear not, you can still hold your lessons with the boy I just wanted to keep you informed about how he's doing. The scar will likely fade as well."

"What about his parseltongue ability?"

"That remains to be seen."

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry sat bundled up in his warmer robes in the Quidditch stands waiting with the rest of the school for the Gryffindor versus Slytherin match to begin.

Hermione, Neville, and Luna were sitting with him in the stands.

"So who are you rooting for," asked Luna. "Your boyfriend or Ginny?"

'I'm not taking sides,' wrote Harry before showing the paper to her.

"Then why did you give Ginny your Firebolt for the game if you don't have a preference?"

'If you really must know, I think that Ginny will catch the snitch but Slytherin will win.'

"For someone not taking sides, you sure have an opinion about the outcome," teased Neville.

'I couldn't let my Firebolt go to waste and Draco already has a fine broom so he didn't need it.'

Harry watched on in eagerness as the two teams entered the Quidditch field area. The captains shook hands and Madame Hooch blew the whistle for the game to begin. The balls were released and the fourteen players went up in the air as the game began.

Harry noticed that Dean Thomas was the announcer since Lee Jordan had graduated He wondered if Dean would continue to do this since Hogwarts was currently out of a permanent Quidditch announcer. He hoped that Dean could keep up the high standards that Lee had during his time at Hogwarts.

"And Gryffindor scores," said Dean. "Ten points to Gryffindor."

The game continued and Gryffindor scored three more times before the Slytherins got ahold of the Quaffle. It didn't take them long once they gained the upper hand to rack up fifty points. Katie was good, but the other chasers of Gryffindor could use some work.

Gryffindor gained possession of the Quaffle when Goyal ran into Katie intentionally as a timeout was called and the penalty shot was taken.

The game went on and Harry watched Ginny try and confuse Draco with the Wronski Feint. He watched as her toes kissed the grass and Draco avoided crashing into the ground by a narrow miss.

Ginny spiraled up into the air again trying to throw Draco's scent off the real snitch but this time he was to smart to fall for the red-head's antics.

Harry kept his eyes on both seekers, wishing that he could be up in the air. They both broke apart from one another and began looking for the snitch.

Thirty minutes later, Ginny caught the snitch. Draco had been right behind her as they both flew after the illusive winged ball, but Ginny being the better flyer by a narrow margin caught it. As Harry had predicted, Ginny caught the snitch bringing Gryffindor's score up to 200 but Slytherin won the match by ten points bringing the final tally to Slytherin 210 and Gryffindor 200.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room later that evening practicing catching his wand using the wand holster. It took him about twenty minutes to accomplish this feat. He smiled when he succeeded. Harry then took out a defensive charms book from his book bag and began to read. He took notes of any useful charms both to teach the DA and for his own use hopefully against Voldemort. He had decided that it was time to work on crossing one thing off of his list, defeat Voldemort.

Harry kept himself busy until the dreaded dinnertime. For tonight was when Dumbledore would tell the rest of the school about his cancer.

Neville, Hermione, Ron and Harry made their way into the great hall.

Harry turned to his friends asking them if they minded if he sat at the Slytherin table. He explained to them that Holly was taking the news of his cancer very badly and he wanted to be with her when Albus brought it up again. Being the loyal friends of the famous Harry Potter, they readily agreed that this was a good idea and a kind thing for him to do.

Harry made his way over to the Slytherin table asking Holly White on the paper if she would mind if he sat beside her. The exuberant first year quickly agreed.

Harry turned to the girl and nodded to her in greeting.

'So how have you been doing Holly?'

"Fine. I loved the match today. Your house put up a valiant effort, it's just that our team had better chasers."

'Yeah, but I bet that Katie will have the other two new chasers in tiptop shape for the next match.'

"We'll see."

'How are your classes going?'

"We just learned the levitation charm the other day. I was so excited when I got it right."

'That's good Holly. So when do you want to make those chocolate chip muffins we were supposed to make?'

"How about tomorrow night."

'Sounds good to me. Meet me in the entrance hall after dinner and we'll make us some."

Harry had decided to use the room of requirement to bake the muffins because he figured that Holly would find the room intriguing.

The headmaster got to his feet and cleared his throat to gain the student's attention. Harry reached out for Holly's hand as he knew she would need the support when she heard the news again.

"I have an announcement to make. I'm sure that you all have noticed that Mr. Potter has been taking a lot of potions and pills lately as well as the fact that he's been wearing a hat for the past few days."

Mutters arose as the DA members were outraged that Albus was telling the whole school. Yes Harry had told them but he was sort of their acting general so they needed to know. The rest of the school in their humble opinions did not need to know.

"Harry has brain cancer. For you purebloods who don't know, that means that a lump is growing in his brain taking over previously healthy tissue. He's under the care of a wizarding oncologist at the present time to help defeat the tumor. These treatments might make him quite ill so be patient with him and us the staff as we all adjust to this new development. The chemotherapy draft that he's taking has made his hair fall out so he wears a hat. I need everyone who is not in Mr. Potter's defense club to sign this parchment swearing that you won't go and spread this news to your families and close friends as it's imperative that Lord Voldemort does not find out about this for as long as possible."

It took an hour or so after the students had begun to grieve for them to sign the parchment as well as a compulsion spell on several of the Slytherins to force them to sign the parchment. Albus hoped that Harry didn't notice the compulsion as they had agreed not to use compulsive magic. Albus reasoned in his mind that these students were not going to do as asked, so it was a necessary measure.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry sat on the bed in Severus's quarters and rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. A few of his eyelashes fell out as he did so. He wished that he could be doing something as carefree as the Slytherin house was at the moment, their Quidditch victory parties were just as legendary as the Gryffindor one's when they won the match.

Severus came into the room with the lancing device, a beeker, and the syringe in hand.

"How are you feeling tonight after the horcrux was defeated last night?"

'I'm feeling much lighter as if a taint has left my soul. Do you think that the scar will heal up and disappear?'

"It should or at the very least it'll not be a cursed scar. Your mind is now your own for the first time in fifteen years."

'Then why do I have to do Occlumency training still?'

"Because the Dark Lord can still read your mind if he comes after you again which he will no doubt do again."

'So how did I do in Occlumency training before the match today sir?'

"Better than last week. It'll take some time to get the hang of it. Obtaining a mastery of Occlumency is a hard thing to accomplish."

Severus pricked Harry's finger then dropped the amount of blood into the Celmosphocide turning it from a purple hue into a bright red one. He flushed the port then administered the MCDI.

After he cleaned up, Severus turned towards Harry and asked, "When you defeated the basalisk in your second year, did you ever have it chopped up into potions ingredients?"

'No. Do you think that it's still viable?'

"Yes, I suppose that the Chamber of Secrets is a very cool and damp area?"

'Yes.'

"Then it's highly likely that the corpse is still salvageable."

'Why do you ask now?'

"Because I am in need of fresh basalisk venom for your Todesgefahr and Albus and I have agreed that in order to keep this information away from the Dark Lord, that obtaining it in secret would prove beneficial to us. Can you take me to the Chamber tomorrow to procure the necessary ingredients?"

'Yes. If it's viable, then perhaps we'll split the prophet. What amount sounds good for you? And what time?'

"How about seventy-five percent goes to you and twenty-five percent goes to me since I'll be the one breaking the basalisk carcass down into it's base components? And after lunch."

'Sounds good, but I was wondering how come I can still speak parseltoungue after the horcrux was gone from my scar sir?'

"It's more than likely that in your ancestry somewhere you're related to a family that has the talent."

'Meet me outside of Moaning Myrtle's loo after lunch then to begin sir.'

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry awoke with a groan. He was so tired. But he knew that he had to get his day started.

He got up out of his four-poster bed in Gryffindor tower and got dressed. He removed the plaster from his forehead and smeared the salve onto it. Professor Snape had told him that it could take up to two weeks for his scar to close properly. It was strange knowing that it would never pain him again. He put a fresh plaster on it and went to the loo to use the oral care package that was how he brushed his teeth during chemo.

He went down to the great hall with Brian on his arm. Harry spent several minutes talking to the little fellow just glad that he hadn't lost his ability to talk to his new familiar.

Hermione came into the hall with a book on arithmency with her and sat beside Harry.

A few minutes later, Ron and Lavender came into the hall holding hands.

Hermione scowled at the happy couple. Harry felt bad for the girl, she clearly loved Ron but Ron was so far up Lavender's arse that it wasn't even funny.

Breakfast appeared on the table and Harry put a fare portion of food on his plate. Since he didn't have chemo last night, he wasn't nauscious for once, so he could eat his fill.

After eating, Harry took his morning pills, he had lowered his dose of prednisone yesterday and this made him happy.

Harry and Hermione chatted amongst themselves as Hermione read, being the talented witch she was, she could both read and hold a basic conversation at the same time.

'I have something that I need to talk to you and Ron about after breakfast.'

"What is it?"

'Something that happened during my treatment on Friday.'

Thirty minutes later found Harry, Ron and Hermione sitting at a table in the common room. It was a rare occurrence nowadays for Ron and Hermione to be sitting together given Ron and Lavender's antics.

'Do you know what horcruxes are?'

'Yes,' wrote Hermione. They had decided to write these type of conversations out and then throw the paper into the fire for secrecy's sake.

Harry proceeded to explain to Ron what horcruxes were and then told the duo about what had happened with his scar as Severus had told him. Ron and Hermione were horrified to find out that Harry had been a horcrux but were thrilled that the horcrux had been defeated by the chemotherapy draft. They were also excited that Harry's scar would no longer bother him. Harry told them about Severus's theory that Riddle had more than one horcrux and asked them how he should proceed with Albus's lessons now that he knew what the topic was. Hermione had told him to just be honest with the Headmaster about the fact that he knew and to take things from their, letting the Headmaster explain things as he may.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry waited outside of Myrtle's loo for Severus. Once the stern man had arrived, Harry pushed open the door.

"Why haven't you been to see me lately," asked Myrtle.

'Because I've been busy. And you know that I'm not into women,' wrote Harry into the air so that Myrtle could read it.

"If the cancer kills you, you're welcome to share my toilet."

'Thanks but no thanks.'

"All of the ghosts know about your being ill, it's truly horrid."

'Yeah, I know that it's hard for you lot, but honestly, cancer has became just a new normal for me these days.'

"What brings you here to see me and with a teacher no less?"

"We're going into the Chamber of Secrets," said Severus. "Harry can you open the Chamber for me?"

/Open,/ said Harry with a scratchy hiss.

The sink slid aside and the pipe lay open. An idea came across Harry's mind, he wondered if the slide could be adapted to have stairs as he couldn't picture Severus sliding down a slimy pipe for any reason. /Stairs please./

Harry and Severus watched on as the pipe turned into a staircase descending downwards.

The two people and one snake made their way down the long staircase.

Once they reached the bottom, Harry and Severus continued walking bones crunching under their feet.

They reached the cave-in and Severus carefully cleared a larger hole for them to go through. They walked further into the Chamber and came across an old shed basalisk skin. It was the one that during Harry's second year he had mistaken for the live basalisk. They approached the bit of wall where the second entrance was and Harry opened the final passageway that had snakes on it. Severus whistled at the sight of the massive snake.

Much to the man's pleasure, the snake hadn't begun to decay any.

"It's a pity that the eyes were destroyed," said Severus.

'Yes,' wrote Harry into the air as he didn't have anywhere to put the paper to write.

"You defeated this large thing at twelve," asked Severus in awe.

'Yes but I had Fawkes help with the eyes.'

"First we'll accio the fangs one by one with the venom sacks intact, then we'll direct them with our wands into this jar. Have you mastered a silent summoning charm yet?"

'Yes.'

"Good, I could use your help but I don't want you to strain your voice any."

Once the jar was full of enough fangs to supply the Todesgefahr for months, Severus skinned the basalisk rolling up the skin into several roles. He then drained the blood into jars. After that he dissected the basalisk carefully. He put the ingredients into jars, vials, cans, bottles, and sacks.

"Harry do you know what basalisk skin is useful for?"

'Making armor sir.'

"Would you like to have a set of basalisk armor of your very own?"

'Yes. It's even rarer than dragon hide armor I believe.'

"Their should be enough skin here for about six sets of armor, do you think that your friends would like a set as well?"

'Yes sir. Basalisk armor is very rare after all. It'll protect us very well if we ever face a battle directly.'

"There's a man in Hogsmeade who can make these sets for you for a charge of course."

'Yes but the basalisk organs blood and such will sell for a pretty penny on the black market. I dare say that such an expense would be covered. I'm also going to have five percent of my portion of the gold each go to everyone who was petrified during my second year.'

"That's a very considerate thing to do."

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry relaxed under the spray of the shower in the Gryffindor boy's dorm. He had come up here to shower before dinner to get the stench of the Chamber off of him before going to meet Holly. He was grateful that he no longer had to wash his hair, this significantly decreased how long he had to stay in the shower. He turned off the water when he was finished and grabbed a fluffy towel to dry off with.

Harry held back tears as his underarm, pubic hair and facial hair fell out. But he was glad to have this milestone met. He was completely bald as the day he was born now. What would Draco think when their relationship progressed to physical intimacy Harry wondered, if he had absolutely no hair.

Harry wrapped Brian around his arm once more.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry met up with Holly later that evening to make his legendary muffins with the girl. This was one of those things on his list that he wanted to get done. Yes it was so simple that many people would ask 'why bother', but Harry cared about his friends and doing this would mean a lot for Holly.

They made their way up to the seventh floor where Harry paced back and forth thinking of what he needed the three times before a door appeared.

"Wicked," exclaimed Holly. "A secret room. Where did you find this place?"

'A house elf told me of it last year when I needed a place to hold the DA meetings. We couldn't use the great hall last year because Professor Umbridge wouldn't let us use any defensive spells at all.'

"Okay."

Harry pushed open the door and explained how the room worked for the first year, telling her to only tell those she trusted about the room.

The room that had been created by Harry was that of a cozy kitchen with a table for two.

They proceeded to make the muffins with ingredients that Harry had gotten from Dobby the house elf.

Once the muffins had cooled, the two ate a few chocolate chip muffins a piece before wrapping the rest up for their friends, or in Harry's case his boyfriend.

..:..

A/N: I hope that you enjoyed this short chapter. I'm not that good at writing Quidditch matches so I hope that I didn't do to terrible of a job.

Please vote on my pole if you feel strongly about the new community one way or the other.

Recommended fanfic of the chapter, Robes of Green, Heart of Gold and it's sequel by KZ55.


	18. Chapter 18: Quality Time

Diagnosis

a/n: Thank all of you for the reviews. I do apologize for the long wait between updates. As some of you might've guessed, I got wrapped up in reading a fanfiction series. Still not finished reading it yet, but I decided that I should update for you all. You've waited a month after all. Without further ado.

'written by Harry'

"spoken aloud"

/parseltoungue/

Chapter 18: Quality Time

Disclaimer: I wish that I were JKR, since I'm not last time I checked, don't own the rights to the Potter verse.

Warning: There's a bit of Lavender bashing here in case that bothers you.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry woke on Monday morning to a ray of sunlight shining in through a nearby window. He stretched then got up and got dressed. He went to take care of his dental hygiene and then woke his sleepy best friend for breakfast.

Once Ron was finished with his morning routine, Harry grabbed the muffins for Draco off of his bedside table. He had hidden them under a disillusionment charm so that Ron wouldn't eat them during the night. He also retrieved Brian from his tank before the duo left the Gryffindor dorm.

Once they got to the great hall, Harry and Ron sat beside one another, for once, Ron hadn't brought Lavender Brown along for the ride. Harry was relieved that he could have his best mate back for now at least. He secretly hoped that the two would break things off. But alas Harry knew that that would not be happening any time soon.

The annoying sixth year girl walked into the great hall and sat on the other side of Ron. Harry fought back a groan.

He watched on as the enthusiastic teen started snogging Ron at the table right in front of several students, and not all of them were Gryffindors either. The Gryffindors were use to seeing such a sight if not excepting of such public displays of affection.

'Good morning Hermione.'

"Good morning to you as well Harry," said the bushy-haired girl. "Have you sent the parcel to Draco yet this morning? You told me last night that you and Holly made the muffins."

'Not yet. I was going to wait and see if Hedwig would come to breakfast so that I wouldn't have to trek all of the way up to the owlery.'

"She has a way about always knowing when her master needs her doesn't she?"

'Yes.'

Harry was not disappointed when Hedwig arrived at the table, taking some food from her master's plate before waiting for Harry to attach a letter and the parcel of muffins to her leg.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry sat in Severus's private office that night waiting for his Celmosphocide and Todesjefher to be administered.

He chatted with Brian until Severus came into the room.

"Hello Harry. How have you been feeling?"

'Just a bit tired, but having the weekend off from treatment has helped me in that regard.'

"Good. We got your lab work back and I wanted to let you know that your levels were a bit low but within range for me to go-ahead and continue with the treatment plan. Healer Robertson and I have decided to check your blood work every Friday night in order to best plan your treatment schedule accordingly."

'Okay.'

"It's important that you continue to take your Filgrastim on a regular basis so that your cell count stays within range for as long as possible."

'Okay.'

'How has the selling of the basalisk parts gone so far sir?'

"Fine. Though I haven't had much time to barter with the dark witches and wizards who wish for such rare parts to my satisfaction yet."

'Are we doing the right thing by selling them since you said that it was the darker variety of people who wish for the remains?'

"Yes. Remember Mr. Potter, dark does not necessarily mean evil, and neither does light necessarily mean good," rebuked Severus gently.

'Can I take care of some business before we start up the treatment sir?'

"Sure."

"Dobby," called Harry hoarsely.

"Yes sir," said the excitable elf. "You called Dobby. Do you be needing anything?"

"Yes, I need you to put Brian's tank on my bedside table in the infirmary. I'll be staying their throughout the week and will need you to transport it back and forth from the tower and the infirmary periodically as I go through my treatment. Is that to much to ask of you?"

"No sir. You be resting up Mr. Harry Potter sir. Yous need to be fighting the cancer hard to win."

"how do you know about my treatments?"

"Because the students be talking where we be overhearing them but not being able to be seen. That's how Mr. Dumbledore sir's jinxes not being triggered by Dobby knowing."

..:..

Harry's POV

So far, Tuesday was turning out to be a satisfactorily pleasant day. Harry had tolerated taking his morning medications, going to all of his classes and even eating a bit of food for lunch without throwing it up. He also kept his lunchtime meds down. Things were beginning to look up for the young powerful wizard.

Harry now found himself loitering outside of the great hall waiting to see his boyfriend. An idea had struck Harry last night during the course of his cancer treatment. He wanted Draco if he was willing to accompany him throughout the remainder of his treatments. The boy had seemed comfortable enough in the Muggle world on Halloween and Harry desperately did not want to be alone. He knew that he could ask any one of his friends to go with him and that they'd say yes, but for some inexplicable reason, it was Draco that he wished to be at his side the most.

"Oi Draco, over here," said Ron. Harry had asked Ron to stay back and be his voice.

"What do you want Weasley," asked the platinum blond.

"It's Harry, he wants to ask you something in private."

Draco walked over to the duo and looked his recently found lover in the eyes directly.

Harry's breath hitched at the look of adoration in the blonde's eyes.

"could you accompany me to my muggle radiation treatments from now on? I just…really don't want to be alone throughout this whole process anymore," croaked Harry.

"Sure. Let me go ask my Head of House first. I'll meet you here in ten minutes if you're ready to leave."

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry and Draco stepped into the muggle hospital together. It had taken quite a bit of convincing on Draco's part, but he had finally talked professor Snape into agreeing to allow him to accompany Harry to hospital.

Not being able to use his wand to communicate at the moment and being also unable to write to the blond using a muggle pen and paper because they were at present walking Harry said, "Did you like the Muffins that Holly and I made?"

"Yes. Vince and Greg also enjoyed them."

Speaking from experience Harry replied, "It's nice when you can finally share something precious or delicious with your best mates isn't it Draco?"

Draco smiled and nodded his head.

"How much longer until we get their," asked the blond.

"Not long," said harry his voice coming out hoarse sounding.

Before long, the two reached the radiology waiting room.

"And this is where I must leave you Draco. I'm afraid that family members and friends have to wait out here due to the danger of the treatments. I'll see you when I get back," said Harry kissing Draco once on the lips before the nurse came to fetch him.

Draco was not worried as he had his wand on him and he could take any muggle on any time. Plus it wasn't as if the Dark Lord knew where Harry was at and that he was currently vulnerable to attack. Though the risk to his boyfriend was significantly less now that another wizard was here just in case of attack.

..:..

Harry's POV

'Thank you for coming to sit with me Draco,' wrote Harry as the duo were now back at Hogwarts.

"It was no problem."

'Would you also like to sit with me during my chemotherapy draft?'

"Yes. Didn't you say that Severus is the one to give you the potions?"

'Yes. Let's go. You don't think that he'll object to badly do you?'

"No. He was only reluctant to allow me to go with you to hospital since we're both underage. He also brought up that you should in his opinion be accompanied by a proper adult just in case, but he was upset that he can't perform the duty himself. At last, he finally agreed, as long as I stay vigilant."

The couple made their way to Severus's quarters holding hands.

Harry uttered the password quietly so that Draco couldn't overhear it. He trusted his boyfriend but knew that if Severus did not want Draco to know the password that he should be discrete.

"No need for all of the secrecy Harry, I know the password too. How do you think that I found my godfather earlier to ask about going with you silly?"

'Good point,' wrote Harry with his holly wand.

The passageway opened and the two entered Severus's quarters.

"In here boys," called Severus.

'How did he know that you were with me?'

"As you will get to know him better, you'll learn that not much gets past the man," said Draco mysteriously.

"Draco are you sure that you wish to remain here throughout your boyfriend's treatment? He can grow quite ill during the process. It isn't always easy to watch."

"Thanks for the warning, but I can handle it."

"If you're sure, come over here and sit Mr. Potter."

Harry sat down letting out a yawn. He blushed in embarrassment that Draco saw him so tired. He logically knew that the fatigue was from a combination of the treatment and the affect that his cancer had on his body, but he couldn't help but feel childish for being tired at such an early hour.

Draco sat in a chair beside the transfigured bed in Severus's private office.

"Hold out your hand Harry," said Severus not unkindly.

Harry held out his left forefinger to be pricked for blood this time. A trickle of blood flowed into the purple potion, turning it a bright red.

Harry sat their calmly as Severus accessed his port and administered the Celmosphocide.

A wave of dizziness hit Harry and he was grateful that he was laying down in bed.

"Does that hurt Harry," asked Draco.

'The Celmosphocide doesn't hurt but it feels a bit warm as it goes in. But the Todesjefher does burn. The Todesjefher is the chemotherapy draft and the Celmosphocide is the MCDI that allows the chemotherapy draft to attack the cancer and stops my magic from blocking out the side-effects of the tumor.'

"Why do you want to do that exactly?"

'Because if we don't, then it makes the Todesjefher less affective without the MCDI.'

"Oh okay."

After that was through, the potions master hooked up the magical infusion pump and hung the anti-amedic.

"Is that the chemotherapy draft sir?"

"No Draco, this is a muggle drug that lessens Harry's nausea."

Harry and Draco spent the next hour playing exploding snap from a deck of cards that Severus had brought them to pass the time. Harry's arm only brushed up against the tubing hanging from his body occasionally but nevertheless found that it hurt a bit each time that the tubing attached to the port in his chest from a special needle when he did so.

Harry smiled when Draco lost the game as Draco's eyebrows got singed.

'Ha, gotcha.'

"I'll have my vengeance next go-around," vowed Draco.

"I'm afraid that you'll have to wait until tomorrow evening to seek revenge Mr. Malfoy."

"Why's that, this bag is only just emptying sir. Doesn't he still have the potion left to go?"

"Yes, but you see, the chemotherapy draft will make him to ill to continue playing. Would you like me to read to you again Harry?"

Severus felt free to let his guard go around Draco and Harry now that he had heard that Narcissa had lost all respect for Lucius. He could finally be the godfather that Draco needed and the mentor that Harry needed without risking Draco blabbing to Lucius. This warmed his heart. For even if he had to hide his true colors around the rest of the school due to the all to real risk of the children of death eaters telling their parents about his fondness for the duo. This sinareo was happening in private and Severus would be damned if he let the Dark Lord rule his actions tonight. That's what Occlumency is used for after all.

'Please. Do you mind Draco?'

"No. He's a good storyteller."

'I know.'

Harry tried to relax as Severus started the drip of Todesgefher.

'Severus,' wrote Harry timidly.

"Yes Harry?"

'I was wondering if you would mind it if I borrowed some potions ingredients for an extra credit assignment for Professor McGonigall.'

"Really Harry, are you really going to try and become an animagus," asked Draco.

'Yes why not. Hermione and I received permission from Professor McGonigall herself.'

"It's a difficult potion to brew plus a difficult process to becoming one," said Severus. "But if you're going to take up such a challenge, I'd feel much safer if you used the ingredients from the store room and my private stores instead of trying and buying your own as I can vouch for the quality of the ingredients here."

'Thanks. You're a big help. And I promise that I'll only help Hermione with the parts of the brewing process that I've been approved to do by you and my healer sir.'

The three lapsed into a companionable silence after that and the silence was only broken by Harry when he retched into a bucket provided by Severus. Draco rubbed his back attempting to comfort Harry as he threw up again and again.

Draco dutifully gave him sips of water to drink and also gave him some water to gargle and rinse his mouth out with between bouts of sicking up.

Fortunately for the trio, as all things pleasant and unpleasant do, time went on and with a sigh of relief, Severus detached the tubing from Harry's port after stopping the drip. He flushed the port with saline and held the needle in place with a bit of medical tape.

"Draco would you mind accompanying Harry to the hospital wing before returning to Slytherin?"

"Yes sir."

..:..

Draco's POV

"Where have you been this evening," asked Blaise when Draco entered the Slytherin common room.

"Spending time with Harry."

"How'd that go Dray," asked Pansy.

"Fine," said Draco. He didn't see any need of telling them how attractive he found the Gryffindor or of how ill his boyfriend really was.

Draco talked to his mates for a bit before retiring for bed. He was knackered.

..:..

Harry's POV

On Wednesday Harry had a nice breakfast and took his medications. Last night had been a bad night as nausea went and Harry had been grateful for the blonde's presence. He had not wanted Draco to leave him once they had reached the hospital wing and Harry had seen the expression of pain on the blonde's face when he had begged him to stay.

The group of Gryffindors made their way to transfiguration. Harry was excited to see what they'd be doing in class today.

The class filed into the room and all took their seats. Harry and Hermione chatted quietly Harry telling her that Severus had agreed to allow them access to his private stores and that they wouldn't need to take a trip to Diagon Alley to get the ingredients for the potion. The duo agreed to begin brewing the animagus revealing potion in the Room of Requirement tonight. It would take a months' time to complete the draft.

Professor McGonigall entered the room a no-nonsense look on her face. "Today we'll begin the challenging process of transfiguring small random items found in the everyday world into large objects capable of blocking the Avada Kedavra curse. As you know, there is as of yet no spell, charm, hex, jinx, or curse capable of stopping the Killing Curse. Your only hope is either to dodge the curse or block it. If your block is successful, the transfigured item will blow up on impact. You will still probably be hit by some of the shrapnel, but at least you if successful might survive. Professor Dumbledore is one of the only wizards capable of such a feat."

"Then why are we going to waste our time in learning this," asked Seamus.

"Because it might very well save your life if you ever face battle at the hands of a more capable witch or wizard than yourself."

Professor McGonigall waved her wand and the room transformed into an exact replica of Diagon Alley with small inconsequential items strewn through the streets for them to attempt to transfigure them into solid brick walls and the like.

" Partner up and I'd like one of you to try and "kill" the other who will attempt to block unfriendly spellfire. You may begin."

..:..

Harry's POV

Later that evening after Harry and Hermione had retrieved all of the ingredients for the animagus revealing potion, Harry and Hermione sat in the Room of Requirement brewing the potion. Much to Harry and Hermione's delight, when they had asked the room to have a place to hide and brew a secret potion, the room had opened up into a room filled with all kinds of stuff that students over the years had hidden away. Harry had dubbed it the room of hidden things.

They came across fanged Frisbees, dark books that were clearly not allowed at Hogwarts, cauldrons full of stuff, bags full of gold that tried to bite anyone who tried to steal from them, and towers full of useful yet forbidden things. Harry had also came across the other vanishing cabinet that he had heard someone talking about in Knockturn alley over the summer. Clearly the student that he had heard threatening the proprietor of the shop had succeeded in his threats to the man and gotten ahold of the other cabinet. He wondered once more what the student was planning on doing with a vanishing cabinet of all things.

Harry had also came across a diadem that oozed a dark aura. He hadn't dare touch it for fear of being cursed.

After they had continued their exploration of the room at long last they had begun to brew the potion. Harry knew that it would take a long time to brew but he had his mind set on brewing the potion.

Once they had brewed for a while, Hermione had cast a stasis spell on it to hold it at the current stages of brewing until tomorrow evening. She had also cursed the area around it with a dangerous spell to prevent anyone with nefarious intent who entered the room to not allow them to tamper with the potion. Harry had cast a disillusionment charm on the cauldron and ingredients just in case before they left the room.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry and Draco found themselves once more in Severus's private office awaiting Harry's treatment.

"So how'd you do in McGonigall's class today," asked Draco curiously.

'Excellent, I succeeded at the transfiguration, blocking Ron's green sparks with a solid brick wall on my fourth attempt. The other times, my wall was either not solid enough or had weak spots that Ron could curse me through.'

"I think that you're the only one to succeed to be honest with you."

"Succeed at what," asked Severus.

'At blocking a fake AK in transfiguration.'

"Oh so she's begun that part of the curriculum then?"

"Yes sir."

'I think that my MCDI is increasing my magical power since I grasped such a complex transfiguration spell so easily.'

"That's an expected side-effect of the Celmosphocide Harry."

'I know sir.'

"How's the animagus potion going for you Harry?"

'Good Draco.'

Severus went over to the workstation and collected the right amount of the MCDI into a beeker then came over to prick Harry's finger for the blood needed to activate the potion.

"Have you been changing the plaster and applying the salve onto your scar Harry?"

'Yes sir. It's healing well. I expect that it might not even leave a scar. The Hogwarts rumor mill will go crazy if that happens. Why however are they going to recognize me without my famous scar on display.'

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry had been pleasantly surprised the night before when he had only been sick once during his treatment.

Harry currently found himself sitting at the Gryffindor table picking at his lunch.

"Are you actually going to eat that Harry or just play with it," asked Hermione.

'I don't feel like eating right now,' wrote Harry in the notebook before scooting it over to Hermione. 'The nausea is pretty bad.'

"Could you try a few bites for me?"

'I suppose.'

Harry slowly took a forkful and placed it in his mouth. He chewed painstakingly slowly.

In seconds, his stomach rebelled and he was sick in his plate. He was mortified but before anyone could get a good look at his predicament, Hermione had vanished the sick that had landed in his plate and cast a freshening charm on the area for the smell. A cup of water was sent up by the Hogwarts elves with a small container for Harry to rinse his mouth. He refused to try and eat again for the remainder of the meal.

Harry took his lunchtime dose of the steroid with a sip of water.

Finding his new plate of food anything but appetizing, Harry wrote on the notepad, 'On Saturday during the Hogsmeade trip I'd like the six of you to accompany me to Arnold's armory once we get to Hogsmeade before we split up to do our own thing. I have a surprise for you lot.'

Harry handed the notepad to Hermione and Ron who read it. Then he scanned the great hall for Luna and Neville. To his surprise they both were at the Ravenclaw table holding hands no less. Since when were they a couple? He walked over to the Ravenclaw table after Ron and Hermione had agreed and handed the message to the two. They read it then agreed and Harry congratulated them on being a new couple. The last thing he did before collecting his bag and leaving the great hall was go and ask Draco to accompany them. He knew that Severus had said that the basalisk skin would probably only make six sets of armor but Harry had his suspicions that the owner could do seven when pressed or more likely bribed to do so by Harry, who would do anything to protect his friends and boyfriend.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry and his friends were sitting at the dinner table on Friday evening when a brown owl swooped over to their table with a letter and a parcel attached to it's leg. Harry had been surprised to see an owl flying to him during this delivery of mail. The owls had been delivering the mail to the students at different days and times for security reasons.

He gave the owl some scraps and took the parcel and letter from the owl thanking it with his hoarse voice before it flew off.

Harry tore open the letter to see a letter from Remus. The werewolf had finally written back to his letter of so long ago. A smile crossed Harry's face as he read:

Dear Harry:

How have you been? Things have been busy around here. I've been doing odd jobs for the Headmaster here and their. That's one of the reasons that it's taken me so long to write you.

The other reason is because I spent my time researching through the Marauder's old notes to find the spells that we used when creating the two-way mirrors that James and Sirius used when in school since yours got broken. I finally succeeded in recreating the process on a new pair and have sent you one. All you need to do to contact me is say my name into the mirror that I've sent you. I may not always be able to answer you due to my work for Albus but if I'm not busy you can feel free to call me to chat anytime.

Call me this weekend so that we can catch up in a risk-free manner, not by letter. Albus was upset that you contacted me at all though I'm not sure if it's because of the risk of interception or his meddling ways.

Remus.

"Who was the letter from Harry," asked a curious Neville.

'Professor Lupin. He's sort of stepped in as a surrogate uncle for me since Sirius passed away.'

"Since when did Sirius Black look after you," asked Neville shocked.

'Since the end of my third year but he was innocent.'

"Why am I not surprised. The Ministry never can do anything right, convicting an innocent man like that."

"He never got a trial so he was never convicted wrongly, but not receiving a trial was still a gross miscarriage of justice," said Hermione passionately.

"So you three knew about Black's innocence all of this time and you lot never told me?"

'I'm afraid so. Professor Dumbledore didn't want us to talk about it and stir up unnecessary trouble. It's not like we didn't trust you Nev,' wrote Harry on the notepad.

"Yeah," said Ron standing by his best mate of six years.

"So what'd Remus want," asked Hermione.

'He wanted to give me a mirror so that we could talk more securely,'

"That's great mate, I thought that you'd broken yours at the end of last term."

'I did, that's why it took him so long to reply to my letter, he had to make a new set for us to use.'

"Fantastic."

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry and Draco sat in Severus's office holding hands and talking.

Harry jumped in surprise when their potions master entered the room.

"Did I scare you Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded.

"It's time to give you your medications; are you ready to begin?"

'Yes sir.'

Severus brought over a beeker of purple potion and pricked the boy's finger, dripping the right amount of blood into the Celmosphocide. It turned a bright red color, indicating that it was ready to be given to Harry.

Draco watched on as Severus continued doing his duties for the Gryffindor, accessing the boy's port and giving him the MCDI.

Severus then hooked up the anti-amedic.

Harry and Draco decided to finally have their exploding snap rematch while the couple awaited the time for the Todesgefher.

Harry was only inconvenienced by the line patruding from his port when he had to reach for a particularly oddly placed card. The two seemed to be having a good time. Severus was glad that Draco had decided to stay with Harry throughout his treatment, if Harry's facial expressions were anything to go by, Draco's presence was having a positive affect on the boy's overall health.

Harry tolerated his chemotherapy draft pretty well that night, only being sick twice.

After Severus had flushed the port, he drew Harry's blood to check his cell count. Draco had had a hard time looking on as Severus drew Harry's blood.

After the potions master was done, Draco accompanied his boyfriend to the hospital wing for the evening.

..:..

Severus's POV

Severus made his way hurriedly to the Headmaster's office with a goblet of steaming hot liquid. After many weeks of hard labor, he had finally concocted a potion to contain the curse to the Headmaster's right hand for a few months. This was a great step forward for the Order; they would now have their general for a few more months than they would've if his hard work had not been successful.

"Lemon drop," intoned Severus.

Once the gargoyle had stepped aside, Severus stepped onto the moving spiral staircase. After reaching the door, he used the Griffin knocker to announce his presence.

"Come in my boy," said Albus cheerfully. "What brings you to my office so late in the evening Severus?"

"I've finally finished brewing a potion for your hand. This potion will negate the curse for a time, containing it to your right hand and hopefully increasing the time you've got left."

"So I'm still terminal," asked Albus sadly.

"I'm afraid so. The cursed object that you foolishly picked up and put on has done irrepable damage to you, but this potion will allow you to finish explaining things to the Potter boy and will allow you to set your affairs in order before you die."

"Thank you. So you mentioned the last time that you visited that the chemotherapy draft has destroyed the horcrux in the boy?"

"Yes, and he's reported to me that the scar is healing nicely. He doesn't think that it'll leave a scar once healed either."

"That's fantastic news. What of his parseltoungue abilities?"

"They're still intact."

"Great."

Severus handed the goblet of potion to the Headmaster and waited to leave until every last drop was drained.

..:..

A/N: I hope that you liked the chapter. I tried to tell the story with some detail yet not to much. Please let me know how I did.

Recommended story of the chapter, the Grey Maiden series by Chris widger on SIYA. I'm not usually into hp/gw but this series is exceptional and I highly recommend it, even if you don't usually read anything but slash I think that you'll still like it. Thanks for taking the time to read my fic. How will Remus take the news of Harry's cancer now that he's given him the mirror? Or will Harry be able to hide it?

The whole blocking the AK idea is not an original idea of mine; it's one that I've seen done before in another fanfic. And the real question is who pressured the shop owner into giving over the cabinet and what are they going to do with it once it's been fixed?


	19. Chapter 19: Hogsmeade

Diagnosis

A/n: Thank you as always for the kind reviews. Congrats to lilly-flower15 for being the 100th reviewer.

/parseltoungue/

'written by Harry'

"spoken aloud."

Chapter 19: Hogsmeade

Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to, I don't own the copyrights to the Harry Potter series.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry awoke with a big stretch to the alarm spell that he had set the night before in order to meet Draco and his friends to go to Hogsmeade. He was excited since this would be his first Hogsmeade date with Draco Malfoy.

A smile broke out on his face as he recalled the pleasant dream that he had been having before being woke by the alarm spell. He and Draco had been hanging out in the Room of Requirement on some date or another and Harry had been running his fingers through Draco's long blond hair, but before the dream could turn into more steamy activities, Harry had been rudely interrupted.

He was determined to make today a special one for Draco.

He got out of bed in the hospital wing. He would be glad to spend the weekend in his dormitory starting tonight. It was always refreshing to spend off days from chemo with his best mate Ron.

Harry got dressed and retrieved Brian from his tank.

/Good morning Brian./

/Hi master. How are you feeling since last night?/

/Much better. Perhaps I'm just in a good mood and that's lessened the nausea that I usually feel post Todesgefahr./

/I don't see why you need that poison anyways. I could bite you and poison you if you like that sort of thing./

Harry wondered where Brian had heard of such fetishes.

/The Todesgefahr helps keep me alive. Don't be a sillyhead./

Harry got his oral care kit and went into the loo to brush his teeth. After finishing up his morning tasks, Harry got a hat off of his nightstand and exited the privacy screens that served as a makeshift wall for his little sick room in the hospital wing.

"Have a good time today Harry," called Madame Pomfrey.

Harry having heard her voice calling from far off in her office replied aloud in a scratchy voice, "I will."

He left the hospital wing with his morning and lunchtime medications in his pocket inside a plastic baggy with a spring in his step.

He was really doing it! Going on a real date with the one and only Draco Malfoy. Who was known in years past as Harry Potter's rival. But today was not going to be a day to dwell on the past Harry decided, instead, he would focus on the future and leave past bygones to be bygones.

The last date that Harry had taken to Hogsmeade had been with Cho Chang and what a disaster that had been.

Harry walked to the great hall and sat down for breakfast with his friends. Ron and Lavender would be going to Hogsmeade together but she had yet to come down to breakfast much to Harry's delight.

'Once we've been to the shop that I need all six of you to accompany me too, I'll be splitting up with you lot to spend some quality time with Draco. We can meet up in the Three Broomsticks at three for a mug of Butterbeer.'

"Sounds good," said Hermione who was eating happily while reading an ancient runes book. "I hope that you have a nice time with Draco."

'I plan on it.'

Harry felt a little nauseous as the breakfast food had materialized on the table in front of him. He knew that the smell of food could make someone going through chemotherapy feel sick so he was not worried by this turn of events. He took his morning meds doing his best to fight the urge to go get sick in a nearby loo that had seen more of him throwing up recently than he cared to admit.

He took a few bites anyways so that he would not have to take a nutrient potion. After fighting the urge to vomit again, Harry sipped on his pumpkin juice.

After breakfast had ended, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville played a game of exploding snap in a nearby classroom to pass the time until they would meet up with Luna Lovegood and Draco Malfoy.

The four teens put the cards away and made their way to the entrance hall where Filch was standing with a list of students who were going to Hogsmeade checking their names off of a list of signed permission forms.

Harry waved Luna and Draco over to their group where they chatted quietly about who they'd be spending the day with and where they'd go. Luna and Draco agreed to go with them to the armory shop and to meet back up with the group at three for a Butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks.

Filch began to scan all of the students one by one with a Probity Probe, making sure that no one was smuggling dark artifacts into the village.

Once you were scanned and passed inspection, you were allowed to make your way out of the castle and towards Hogsmeade.

Harry waited for his friends and boyfriend to pass inspection and then he took Draco's hand in his and the duo strode casually along the path to the gates of Hogwarts and then down the path to the village.

Harry did his best to avert his eyes from Lavender and Ron. The couple were hanging all over one another as they were known for doing.

Once they arrived at Arnold's Armory, Ron asked Lavender to wait outside of the shop until they had concluded their business. The girl reluctantly did so.

Draco opened the door and Harry and Draco were the first of the group to enter the shop.

"Hello," said Draco looking around for the shop owner.

A tall wizard with a muscular frame came into Harry's line of sight.

"Hello Mr. Potter, what brings you to my shop on a beautiful day like this?"

'I was wondering if you could make me seven sets of basilisk armor sir.'

"Why on earth would you lot need something like that?"

'Last time I checked, I was number one on Lord Voldemort's to kill list.'

"True that, but I must warn you that even dragon armor is crazily expensive. Do you have access to basilisk skin that I could use to make this armor?"

'Yes as a matter of fact I do.'

"How large was the snake in question?"

'Quite large.'

"Alright, provided that you can provide the necessary materials, I can craft the armor for you. I'll need all of your measurements."

The man summoned a tape measure and began the tedious task of measuring them one by one.

After Harry had been measured, he took the opportunity to explore the shop. He saw swords, scabbards, bows and arrows with magical properties, daggers, shields and the like. Needless to say, he was impressed.

Coming back over to the shop owner who had just finished measuring Draco who was the last to be measured, Harry asked, 'How much will all of this cost?'

"100 galleons a set."

'That's pretty cheap isn't it,' asked Harry of Draco.

"Yes, but he's probably giving you a discount because of your status as our famous savior," muttered Draco.

'I'd rather receive it full price.'

"I know Harry, but you will probably need all of the funds you can get to help fund this war, so don't look a Hippogriff in the mouth."

'Thank you sir. I'll have Professor Snape deliver the basilisk hide to you by next Monday. When will you have it made?'

"By your next Hogsmeade trip in December right before the Christmas hols."

'That's perfect.'

"Thank you for doing business with me Mr. Potter," said the wizard shaking Harry's hand.

The seven children left the shop, the bell tinkling as they left.

"Let's go," said Draco, excited to begin their date.

Harry smiled at his boyfriend's antics, Draco was pulling him by his hand along to the next shop.

'Where to first?'

"I need a new quill and some parchment," said Draco. " So we'll need to visit Scrivenshaft's first if that's alright with you."

Harry smiled and nodded as they continued down the street.

Spotting the sign to Scrivenshaft's Harry wrote in the air with his wand, 'Here it is Dray.'

Harry pushed open the door and the couple entered the shop.

Harry watched on fondly as Draco walked down several isles until he found the more high-end rolls of parchment and quills. Harry knew that Draco was unaccustomed to purchasing anything but the very finest of materials so he refrained from commenting that that quill over their that was three galleons cheaper would do just fine.

Harry also grabbed a fresh quill and a roll of parchment for himself. Having gotten all they needed, the two made their way to the counter to purchase their stuff.

The rest of their day until three when they'd all meet up in the Three Broomsticks was spent in Zonko's, where Harry got a few joke items for pranking Filch, at Honeydukes where the couple practically bought out the store in heaps of candy and snogging behind the Shrieking Shack.

As Draco and Harry found out, snogging and light petting could be a lot of fun.

Before the two knew it, it was time to grab a light lunch. They made their way with goofy grins to the Three Broomsticks, where Harry ordered fish and chips. Draco got shepard's pie. They chatted about everything and nothing at once.

They both got hot tea to drink, wanting to wait until their friends got their to have some Butterbeer as planned.

Thanking Madame Rosmerta for the excellent lunch, the two left the establishment hand in hand.

They walked around until they found a short wall that they could sit on and chat. The young couple both shared stories from their childhoods with one another. Draco grew indignant at some of the things that Harry's relatives had done to him. Harry tried but was not entirely successful at editing the more graphic evidence of child abuse from the retelling.

Harry put his arm around Draco's shoulders as they talked, drawing his partner closer to his left side.

When the cold of the late autumn air began to affect them, Harry cast a nonverbal warming charm to keep them from growing to cold. He was sure that Brian appreciated the warming charm especially much.

After they grew bored of their conversation, Harry leaned in and pecked Draco squarely on the lips. A fierce snogging session began and was not deterred when Harry's cap got knocked off.

Coming up for air, Harry realized that his head was cold, so he searched for and found his cap, putting it on.

Turning to Draco with swollen lips Harry said, 'That was fun Draco, We ought to do this more often.'

"Yeah," said Draco.

When three o'clock came around, they made their way to the Three Broomsticks to meet their friends. Draco spotted his largest two mates and hailed them over to join their group. Harry bought everyone Butterbeers and they all shared with one another what they'd done for their day in Hogsmeade. Lavender and Ron, Harry and Draco obviously spared their friends the details about their extracurricular activities that they'd obviously been up too.

Before they knew it, it was time to head back to Hogwarts. Grabbing his bags, Harry got up and shrank his stuff so that he wouldn't have to carry his load back, freeing his hand to hold Draco's. He put the shrunken bags into his robe pockets.

..:..

Harry's POV

Later that night, Harry found himself sitting on his four-poster bed in the Gryffindor tower reading a defense book and taking notes for useful battle spells to teach the DA. So far, he had found four really good one's. Checking the time with a quick Tempus, Harry made his way down to Professor Snape's quarters for his Celmosphocide injection after putting his notes and book on the bedside table.

Harry reached the hidden door to the Professor's quarters and knocked.

Severus opened the door and let the boy in.

"And how are you this evening? Did you have a good time in Hogsmeade Harry?"

'I'm fine and yes Draco and I had a splendid date, thanks for asking.'

Harry made his way into the private office of the Professor where his treatments take place and sat down on the bed, exhaustion hitting him. He knew that fatigue was par for the course with cancer, but suspected that this was just ordinary exhaustion that came with having an exceptionally busy day.

'I was wondering if you could deliver the basilisk skin to Arnold's Armory next week, I'm having him craft me armor as you had suggested.'

"I'd be happy to."

Harry held out a finger for the Professor to prick and watched on as a drop of blood went into the purple potion, changing it to a red color. The potions master drew it up into a special syringe and injected it into Harry's port, flushing it with sailean once the potion had been administered. He put a dressing back on the port and cleaned up the mess. After the side-effect of dizziness left, Harry got up, thanking the potions master for his help and left.

Reaching his dormitory at long last, Harry waved at Ron and Neville before he retrieved his mirror to call Remus. He couldn't put telling the werewolf about his situation off any longer.

He cast a silencing charm around his bed to keep his conversation with Remus private.

"Remus," said Harry to the mirror, the surface fogged up as his breath hit it. The surface rippled and Remus Lupin's face appeared in it moments later.

"How are you doing Harry," asked the Marauder.

"Alright, today was our Hogsmeade trip and I took my date out on the town. We had a good time," said Harry his voice scratchy.

"If you're fine, then why do you sound so sick?"

"Because I am sick. I've been diagnosed with cancer Remus. I didn't want to tell you and worry you, but now that I can tell you in a secure manner, it's the least I owe you as James and Sirius's mate."

"How long have you had it?"

"Since a few weeks into this school year. It started with migraines."

"What kind of cancer do you have?"

"Brain cancer. The treatments cause my voice to sound like this."

"Have you told your friends that you're ill?"

"Yes."

"Is their anything that I can do for you?"

"Now that I think of it, could you get me some beanies?"

"I see your hat, don't you like it?"

"Yes, but hats can fall off and it's growing cold, I need something to keep my head warm."

"Sure thing."

For the next few minutes, Harry and Remus talked about their lives, how Remus was trying to persuade the werewolves over to their side and how Harry was doing in school. Once their conversation drew to a close Harry put the blank mirror into his bedside table droar before going to sleep.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry and Draco found themselves walking out into the chilly morning air together. It was Sunday morning, and the couple decided to cross off one of Harry's items off of his list. Draco wanted to help Harry live as much as possible while battling cancer. He knew that completing these things would mean a lot to the teen and he wanted to spend time with him. Reaching The Whomping Willow Draco asked, "How are we going to get to the trunk to inscribe our initials on it if the ruddy thing won't stand still?"

'Hold on,' wrote Harry. 'I've got it.'

Harry searched around until he found a suitably long stick to prod the knot.

Much to Draco's amazement, the tree froze.

Harry got out a knife that he had bought to replace the one that Sirius got him which had been destroyed during their time at the DOM last term.

Harry scratched a heart into the bark of the tree which was more difficult than he had thought it would be, and Harry wrote hp/dm forever in the center of the heart.

'How does it look,' wrote Harry smiling.

"Great. Definitely a kiss worthy feat."

Draco kissed Harry thoroughly.

..:..

Dumbledore's POV

Albus Dumbledore made his way over to the fireplace and reached into the pot of floo powder. He threw it onto the flames before stepping into the fireplace and saying, "The burrow."

The wizened old Headmaster stepped out of the floo dusting off his magenta robes before being greeted by Molly. "What can I do for you Albus?"

"I need to talk to Arthur. Is he available?"

"Of course. Arthur," bellowed Molly Weasley. "The Headmaster needs to talk with you."

Arthur came bursting into the living room greeting Albus happily. "Is either Ron or Ginny in trouble?"

"No, it's nothing like that."

"Okay," said Arthur, stumped as to what the Headmaster of Hogwarts was doing in his living room if none of his children were hurt or in trouble.

"Do you recall that attack on the Jones house where Hestia and her children were killed?"

"Yes I do, unfortunate tragedy that was."

"What you don't know, is that the Fidelius Charm is beginning to weaken. I received a grave injury over the summer and as I grow weaker, the secret is at an increasingly weakened state. I fear that if I don't find a new Secret Keeper for number 12, their will be disastrous consequences. So i was wondering if you could become the new Secret Keeper. We'd have to recast the charm as you in the role as Secret Keeper and reinform the Order of the secret, thus strengthening the charm and leaving our members unable to tell the secret even if under torture like Hestia was. She told Voldemort some information but luckily not the whole thing."

"Of course I'll do it," said Arthur.

"Then let's go," said Albus. "We'll appearate right outside of the house and I'll cast the complex charm."

..:..

A/N: I know that I said when updating Blind Faith that I would put this one on hold for a while whilst I update that one, but I can't in good conscience do that to you readers, so I'll update both fics on a rotating schedule to keep both het and slash readers happy. Please read and review.

I Also know that that bit about the whole fidelius thing isn't cannon, but I wanted a way to negate having the house revealed if Albus dies, so that's why Arthur is Secret Keeper now.

I know that it's not in cannon that they take two Hogsmeade trips so close together, but needed a way for them to get each other's Christmas presence so there'll be another trip soon.

Recommended fic of the chapter, A Brother to Basilisks by Lomonaaeren.


	20. Chapter 20: Three Weeks

Diagnosis

A/N: I know that it's been a while since I updated, but I hope that you enjoy this chapter. I hope that the time skips don't bother you to much; I needed time to move ahead.

Also, I apologize if the horcrux scene isn't entirely as it was in JKR's books, I just summarized what I remembered from the book.

'written by Harry.'

"spoken aloud"

/parseltongue/

Chapter 20: Three Weeks

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own the Potter verse.

Warnings: Discussions of child abuse and scenes of a mild sexual nature.

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry awoke to the sight of the sunlight shining into the window of his Gryffindor dormitory. Nothing made him more ready to greet the day than seeing the sunlight in the morning. It truly was a sight to behold. He pushed the hangings on the four-poster bed open and reached for his glasses that were on his bedside table and placed them onto his face. He could now see the world around him much clearer.

Harry got dressed and then got out his supplies for cleaning his scar and the plaster to put atop of it and went into the loo to have access to the talking mirror, so that he could see how well his scar was healing up. He pulled off the plaster with a wince and threw it into the bin.

The area where his lightning-bolt scar had once been now had a healing scab where once red and inflamed and sometimes a bloody area had been was now healing up nicely. He estimated that by the end of the week his scar would be healed up enough to stop bandaging it and putting salve on it. He would ask Professor Snape tonight for his opinion but was confident that this were the case.

He got out his daily medication and after retrieving Brian from his tank, he made his way down for breakfast. He took note while doing so that today would also be the day that he decreased his prednisone to one tablet three times a day. This would be his maintenance dose throughout the duration of his chemotherapy.

He sat down beside of Hermione Granger, one of his best friends for the past five years and greeted her with a smile and a written hello on his tablet of paper.

Today Harry had decided to forgo his hat for the day. The rest of the school had had the necessary time to prepare for seeing him with a bald head and their was nothing wrong with his appearance, or so proclaimed Draco and his chemotherapy team anyways. Sure he usually kept his head covered at all times, but today he was trying to go for a new look. Both on the way down to breakfast and at the present time some of the more rude students stared, but they were always gossiping about something concerning his appearance, so to hell with it. He wondered what they'd think if they saw him without a hat covering his lightning-bolt scar and that it would soon be gone. The reporters would have a field day.

He had cast a notice-me-not charm on the plaster covering it so that they would not ask to many questions and went about his business.

"You look great today Harry," said Hermione noticing that he was bold enough to go without a hat today. She supposed that it'd be alright since they had no outside classes today nor did they have potions in the cold dungeons. "How does it feel without your hat Harry?"

'It feels kind of odd with the cool air on my bald scalp, but I think that in the spring if I'm still going through the potions regimen I'll forgo the hat all together. On days when I'm going to be in a cool environment I'll wear a hat, but other than that, I'm honestly growing confident with my chemotherapy altered appearance so I will only wear the hat when it suits my fancy.'

"You're really brave Harry, do you know that?"

'How is this brave? My hat sometimes slips off at odd times when my head gets to sweaty or I'm snogging Draco.'

Harry smiled as Hermione burst out into laughter.

"Harry you're hilarious. Now I know why you're going without the hat today, so that you can get in some quality time with Draco. I see how it is. But about you being brave, it's not the hat thing, instead it's how you just keep on fighting through this whole cancer thing like it's nothing."

'If you say so.'

Harry reluctantly spooned some baked beans and potatoes onto his plate. He was determined to eat some food since his stomach was not currently nauscious from the chemotherapy draft as today was Monday morning. He took a bite of his baked beans and chewed mechanically. The food tasted good, but he had grown accustomed to not being able to enjoy his food due to the nearly constant nausea, but today he had to adjust to having a good day.

He got out his morning meds after finishing his all-be-it small plate of food and took them with his glass of pumpkin juice.

'Did you finish that DADA essay Ron,' asked Harry when Ron had approached the breakfast table with Lavender in toe.

"Yeah, I had to finish it up this morning with a bit of help from Lavender. That's why Mione and you beat me to breakfast."

Harry chuckled hoarsely.

'I figured that something out of the ordinary had to be keeping you occupied for you not to be here. Plus you were already up when I awoke this morning which is definitely odd. Usually Neville and I have to wake you up.'

"Where's your hat mate?"

'I decided to go without it today. I'm feeling really good today and I'm not even feeling nauscious.'

"That's great mate," said Ron slapping Harry on the back. "Do you reckon that you're having a good day? It's something that happens to cancer patients sometimes, they just feel really good or really bad for no apparent reason on somedays. At least that's if you trust what Mione has shared with us about cancer patients."

'Who's she talking to about what she knows about my illness?'

"Just the Ministry five. She said that she wants us to be prepared for how you're handling things and the toll that the illness can have on you. She's honestly not going all super-research demon on us so I'm grateful for that."

'Yeah, she hasn't drug me off to learn more about it I guess. That's a good sign right?'

"I reckon so."

..:..

Harry's POV

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting in the library later that evening when Harry had tried to talk about Remus and where he was currently residing. All of the sudden a shiver of fear crept up his spine when he could no longer recall the address of Sirius's old house. This couldn't be good. Did the Secret Keeper change or something? Dumbledore had mentioned changing the Secret Keeper but Harry had sort of thought that it would take longer to go through the process of finding a suitable candidate. However it would appear that this wasn't the case.

'Hermione do you remember the address of the Order of the Phoenix?'

Hermione's face scrunched up in thought. "No I can't remember it. It's as if all of the details of the house have left my mind. I can remember that there's an Order of the Phoenix and that they had a headquarters but not where it was, the name of the location, nor what the house looked like. It's strange. Do you suppose that Dumbledore has given up his duties as Secret Keeper?"

'Yes actually,' wrote Harry. 'When Hestia was tortured she was able to give Voldemort some information about the Order but not much. All of it was not given up of her own free-will of course. He asked me if I'd do it since his health and magic were ailing him and I told him that I couldn't take on the duties because of my own poor health. I kind of figured that we were sort of fucked having our main leader and the Boy-who-lived both possibly terminally ill at the same time.'

"Who do you think it is?"

'I don't know, it could be anybody really.'

Harry got out a piece of parchment and wrote a note to the Headmaster asking him about the latest news and asked who the Secret Keeper was sending it off with Hedwig who had mysteriously appeared a few minutes ago.

"What were you saying about Professor Lupin again Harry," asked Ron.

'I spoke to him this weekend, he's doing fine, off on some mission for the Order having to do with werewolves.'

"Oh. Did you tell him about your…cancer," asked Ron hesitant to broach the sensitive topic.

'Yes. He took it pretty well. Said he'd like to visit me sometime. I asked him to send me some winter hats to keep my head warm as winter approaches.'

"That's neat. Not that we mind how you look now…or anything," said Hermione gingerly. "Did you talk to Draco yet today?"

'Yeah. Spent some time with him in the Room of Requirement during our free period,' wrote Harry with an impish grin.

..:..

Harry's POV

On Friday at lunchtime, Harry finally got a note from the Headmaster. He knew that the man was a busy wizard, but honestly he was beginning to wonder if a response was coming at all.

He unrolled the parchment and read:

Dear Harry:

Come to my office this evening after your Muggle radiation. I've cleared it with Severus to have your chemotherapy draft bumped back an hour so that we can meet. My password is cockroach clusters.

APWBD.

Harry made his way down to potions class after burning the letter. The weather had grown progressively colder as the week went on, so Harry had taken to once more wearing his hats unless he and Draco were indulging in some making out and light petting. Draco had confided in Harry that he found him incredibly sexy without his hat, but due to the chill he had to keep his head covered most of the time to prevent him from catching a cold.

A few minutes later found Harry and Hermione in potions as partners brewing an antidote to the blood boiling poison. It was a complicated draft to brew as Severus had warned the students. Harry stirred the potion as Hermione handled the ingredients. Severus and his healer had recommended that Harry not handle any ingredients to prevent him from getting sick with his lowered immune system. Harry had to brew the potions and attend herbology whilst using a bubble-head charm to prevent him from catching anything since his immune system had dropped this week due to the chemotherapy draft.

Time passed as the trio attended classes and Harry and Draco attended his muggle radiation session which had Harry feeling as if he had been run over by a truck.

Before Harry knew it, he was sitting in the Headmaster's office with Arthur and Albus. Ron and Hermione were summoned to the office and the three of them were told by Arthur where the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was located. This had come as a surprise to Harry that Arthur was the new Secret Keeper. But he was glad for it as Arthur knew how to keep a secret and the man was trustworthy to a fault. After they had taken some tea and biskets, the three students were dismissed.

Harry said his goodbyes to his friends and made his way down to Severus's quarters and his private office. Draco met him outside and Harry said the password to gain entrance.

Harry sat down on the bed with Draco coming to the bedside and sitting in a chair. "Harry are you ready to have your potions?"

'Yes sir.'

Severus brought over the purple potion in a beeker and pricked Harry's finger, dripping in a drop of blood into the mixture. It turned red and Severus drew up the Celmosphocide into the special syringe. After flushing the port, he administered the potion.

A wave of dizziness came over Harry and he clutched Draco's hand like a lifeline.

"Just lay back and relax Harry," said Severus seeing that the Celmosphocide was taking it's toll on the boy.

Harry and Draco talked as Severus hooked up the anti-amedic.

Severus deciding to give the boys some privacy left the room after he had set the flowrate on the infusion pump after reassuring Harry that he'd be back when it was time to administer the Todesgefahr.

After the door closed, Harry looked into Draco's eyes lovingly and said hoarsely, "Do you know how beautiful you are?"

"Not half as beautiful as you Har."

"Don't be silly. I look ridiculous with this plaster taped to my forehead."

"But it'll be over and done with tomorrow, Severus already told you earlier that you only needed to apply the salve once more and then it'd be healed by tomorrow. Are you excited about no longer being a silly scarhead any longer?"

"Yes but I'm nervous about how my adoring fans will take the news. The scar has sort of been part of the package you know. It'll be awkward to look in the mirror and have an unblemished forehead."

"Yeah," said Draco noncomitably, deciding that their was no need for further conversation when their time could better be taken up with some snogging.

Draco bent his head to Harry's lips and their lips locked. Harry opened his mouth readily as Draco sought entrance with the tip of his tongue.

Harry explored Draco's teeth, tongue and the roof of his mouth with his tongue. Their lips and tongues meshed together as their passion grew. Their tongues battled for dominance and Draco won the battle swiping Harry's tongue aside as he continued the kiss. He could not get enough of Draco. Everything about the blond was perfect, from his blond tresses to his grey eyes to his toned bum.

When the two finally broke for air, Harry said, "Take it easy Draco and watch my line. We don't want it getting tangled up and beeping alerting Severus to what we're getting up to."

"You're right, but that's not going to stop us from having fun now is it," said Draco huskily.

..:..

Harry's POV

The following Tuesday found Harry and Draco sitting in the Room of Requirement having a companionable time with one another. Harry had invited Draco on a date in the ROR where he had prepared chicken parmesan with garlic bread.

"This tastes really good Har. I didn't know that you were such a good cook."

'Yeah, it's no big deal, I cooked for my Aunt and Uncle all the time growing up.'

"All the time?"

'Yes. They are a beastly lot and lazy to boot. My Uncle and Aunt neglected and occasionally physically abused me as a child. I cooked all of the meals from age six until now.'

"Are you serious? I know that you told me a few weeks ago that they were not nice to you, but to have you being their bloody house elf for Merlin's sake. That's…preposterous! They should go to Azkaban for child abuse. Does anyone know about this besides me?"

'Madame Pomfrey and the headmaster. He and I had a falling out about how they treated me but he's doing a much better job as my magical guardian now that he's dying. And they're muggles, they can't go to Azkaban.'

Oopse! He was not supposed to reveal that information. He had really gone and done it now hadn't he?

"He's dying, from what?"

'I don't know, he won't tell me.'

" Back to our discussion of your relatives, how could you have forgave the headmaster after he kept your abuse quiet for all these years?"

'I don't know. I guess I just want to see the good in people you know.'

"You haven't forgave them for abusing you have you?"

'My relatives, I think not. But they've been treating me better, not hitting me as much and feeding me once a day since I started working last summer.'

"Once a day," screeched Malfoy indignantly. "A house elf can't survive on as much!"

'Drop it Draco please. I don't like to talk about what they did to me and how it makes me feel as it brings up old memories, and not the good kind either.'

"Okay."

And with that, their conversation turned to a stereotypical conversation about the Quidditch league and who might wind up playing in the next Quidditch World Cup.

After they had finished their meal and drank their pumpkin juice, Draco and Harry sat down on a nearby divan that appeared. Harry had required the divan so that the two could spend some time snogging before Harry had to go to hospital for more radiotherapy. He was glad that he only had two more weeks of radiation to go after this week was over.

Harry strattled Draco's hips as the blond had lay down on the divan for Harry to dominate him. They had discovered that they both liked to share the positions, that being who was the dominant and who was the submissive in the situations and apparently Draco wanted to bottom today.

Harry lightly kissed the blond then prodded his lips with his tongue to open up. Their teeth clashed together as they kissed. Harry sucked on Draco's tongue and Draco's hips bucked in response. Draco apparently liked this as his member sprung to attention.

Harry unbuttoned Draco's shirt and took it off, throwing it to the floor. He kissed Draco's chest then took one of the blonde's nipples into his mouth, sucking on it watching on in pleasure as the other nipple grew hard. He continued to suck and lick the slightly sore bud as he teased the other nipple. He came back up and started kissing Draco passionately. He ground his hips together with Draco's creating friction. After they continued for a while but refrained from removing each other's trousers and undergarments, they stopped, breath quick from the excersions.

"Did you like that babe," inquired Harry hoarsely.

"Yes Har. You're welcome to take control of me anytime you like."

..:..

Harry's POV

On Friday evening, Harry sat in the headmaster's office listening to the headmaster share more of Lord Voldemort's past. He shared with Harry about how Riddle having been unable to find a job shortly after graduating from Hogwarts had come applying for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. Albus wisely having refused the man who had already begun to dabble in the dark arts given his facial features had sent the man away emptyhandedly.

He told Harry of how Lord Voldemort being denied what he so desperately wanted had cast a curse on the posission, one that to this day still was active.

'Sir, is this curse why you won't allow Severus to take the post as Defense Professor?'

"That is one reason yes. I'm afraid that he's to valuable of a potions brewer for me to waste his skills on teaching the post for a year only to have some sort of misfortune to befall him."

After the two had discussed this Albus inquired, "Has Severus discussed horcruxes with you?"

'Yes. He told me that I was one and that the chemotherapy draft had defeated the horcrux in my scar. He also confided in me that Riddle probably had more than one, the diary being one.'

"Yes. Has your scar healed up Harry?"

Harry took off his hat and displayed for the headmaster his unblemished forehead.

"It looks good. Have you had any pain since the horcrux was vanquished?"

'No.'

"Well I have one more piece of knowledge to share with you tonight. Having being denied the defense job, Riddle then began to work at Borgin and Burkes. He took the post to search for Slytherin's locket. You see, Riddle only used significant objects for horcrux creation originally."

'How did he find out about Slytherin's locket then?'

"His mother had it and he discovered this. He wanted to use objects from all four founders if at all possible. But we'll talk more about that next lesson. For now, I've got a spell to teach you if you're feeling up to it. After that my boy, I'm afraid that you've got to go to Severus's quarters for your treatment."

..:..

Ron's POV

"What would you like to do this evening," asked Ron of Harry on the following Thursday after classes.

'I'd like to cross something off of my list. Wanta help me?'

"Sure thing mate. What do you have in mind?"

'Skipping rocks.'

"Skipping rocks? What's that?"

'You take a flat rock and skip it across the water's surface. It takes a lot of practice. Are you sure that you want to brave the late November weather just to go to the black lake with me so that I can master the skill? Skipping rocks is a Muggle thing.'

"Is it really important to do for you?"

'Yes.'

This was all Ron needed to hear to get dressed for the cold chilly evening.

"Do you think that the lake has frozen over yet?"

'The sun was out today and the temperature was warmer than usual, so I don't think so. That's part of the reason that I want to do it now, before winter truly sets in. I want to cross this off of my list now just in case I don't make it to the spring time where I can do this then.'

"Don't talk like that Harry. I'm sure that everything will be alright."

..:..

a/N: I know that Harry's forgiveness of the Headmaster may seem odd and it is, abused children can sometimes act this way towards their abusers and those who protect or overlook them and what they've done. As for why Harry can talk about their abuse so candidly, it's because he's begun to heal from what they've done with Ron, Hermione and Madame Pomfrey's help. All abused children react to their situations differently. Some forgive their abusers whilst others hate them for what they've done and the same goes to those in authority that should've done something about it like Albus. He's dying and that's why Harry can forgive him. I hope that my characterization of his behavior isn't to ooc.

Let me know if you have any preferences for Harry and Hermione's animagus forms. They'll be revealed next chapter, but I was hoping for some input from you lot to help me decide.

I was wondering if you would like me to write out the intimate scenes between Harry and Draco or not.

I don't know what Scotland's late November weather is like, so with the last scene, just assume that it's an unseasonably warm November day for the last scene.

Recommended fanfic of the chapter: Harry Potter and the Agents of Attor by Chromewe11.


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